Recrudesce
by Red Castellan
Summary: One year, one year has passed since the Capitol was overthrown. Efforts have been made to restore peace in Panem, and things look to be getting much better... until they arrive. Retelling of "The Five" by IVolunteerAsAuthor.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**Everleigh Marshall (20) Capitol Resident**

It had been a year since we had earned our liberation, a year since we overthrew the Capitol, and a year since we began our progress towards harmony in Panem.

It wasn't exactly easy, considering the District residents were salty towards the Capitolites, and the Capitolites weren't exactly best friends with the District folks. But both of them acknowledged that they needed each other for the country to work, and at this moment that was the sole most important thing.

It was time for the trials already, trials of the monsters who had been ruining this country for ages. I wasn't in favour of death penalty, but the Districts had demanded that they would not attack the Capitol only if these culprits were executed. And we couldn't let that happen, a lot of the Capitolites were not only innocent, but had also helped the Districts earn their freedom, and I was among these Capitolites. I couldn't let my home suffer any further.

No, it wasn't just the bombings and the killings. The Capitol had been _obsessed_ with materialistic things since the beginning, and had a very real problem of not treating outsiders as humans. It had to be gotten rid of.

Around me, various rebels had occupied the seats of the grand courtroom, the courtroom where once rebels' death sentences had been pronounced countless times. It was all going to be reversed now.

Our interim president, Madam Nerilla, was seated in the front, just one row in front of me. I admired how she managed to control so much of the country in such a short time, and how much the killings and hate crimes had dropped during her reign. A lot of the rebels were of the opinion that she should take over as the President, but she always fussed that an election needed to be conducted when things were a little calm. In fact, an election was about to be held in two months' time, and anyone over seventeen would be eligible to vote.

This was one thing that the Districts were looking forward to.

Madam Nerilla had also been the one to put off the execution of the former President and his cronies, saying they deserved a fair trial, and time would be required to gather evidence. I was personally not convinced, but her noble approach made it hard for me and the rest to resist this.

Well, time had flown by.

"Everleigh," she greeted with a smile, turning around to face.

"Madam Nerilla," I smiled brightly, which was almost instantly replaced by a frown, "I feel strange about this."

"You do?" she asked, surprised, "Why, what's the matter dear?"

Madam Nerilla's face was laced with concern, and I smiled despite myself. She was just so genuine, so motherly, that I could be myself around her at any time, anywhere, despite her being the president and me being an ordinary citizen.

"I want this to be over soon," I said, "But I…"

_I don't want to see people being sentenced to death._

I didn't say that out loud, but I knew that _she_ knew, for she gently patted my head, nodding in understanding.

"Everleigh," she said slowly, "I understand how you feel, I don't want to be here either. But once you go down a path that's dark, that's dangerous, that's _correct_, you need to keep going. You may feel right now how a road can be dark and right, but look at all of us here! We're heroes in our eyes, but villains in the books of somebody else. And both a hero and a villain have to do things they don't want to."

I nodded, clearly understanding what she meant. Sometimes, I just needed a reminder to stay strong.

And then he was dragged in, Alejandro Porras, the last Head Game Maker ever. He had grown weak, and had aged at least a decade in the past year, being only a ghost of what he used to be when in power.

Around me, the crowd booed, but Alejandro refused to even lower his head, walking straight, pride evident in his every step.

The judge, DiMarco, leered at the man as he was brought in. DiMarco was a small, round man, and really pink for some reason.

"You may be seated," he said in a raspy voice, and Alejandro was forced into a chair in the centre of the courtroom.

"Alejandro Porras, you're on trial for the massacre of two hundred and seven children under your reign as the Head Game Maker. How do you plead?"

"Go to hell," he whispered weakly, yet defiantly, "You all are sick! You act all self-righteous, but you're all killers too! You're all beneath me."

"And yet, here you are," Judge DiMarco said, "Tied and bound by the people you've labelled beneath yourself."

Alejandro swore as the crowd cheered, booing at the accused. He had probably not eaten in days, and his face already looked dead. His eyes though, were rebellious.

Not for long though, for a gun shot resounded in the room, and soon, Alejandro was nothing more than a corpse, and Madam Nerilla, who was in the first row, was covered in his blood.

I realised my shirt, and probably my face, was covered in his blood too.

And I screamed at this, trying to get the horror of the situation out of my head, out of my sight, for _who_ would do this?!

All around me, people were running, panicked, not knowing what to do. Another gunshot, and Madam Nerilla was on the floor too.

"NOOO!" I screamed, sprinting over to her.

She couldn't die, she couldn't die, _she couldn't die!_

But I knew it was hopeless the moment I checked her pulse. She was gone…gone…

All around me was a mad chaos, people running for their lives, nobody knowing who to trust, not knowing what to do. And what was this weapon that killed people instantly? Panem didn't have anything of the kind!

I couldn't think much of it though, for I was crying, my vision blurred, as I kneeled beside the corpse of Madam Nerilla.

"Silence."

The voice had been low, yet everyone stopped in their tracks in fear, turning towards the source. I hadn't even noticed when this small ball sized object had floated into the middle of the room. Once everyone was quiet, a holographic projection had come out of the object, and I could see the silhouettes of five people, their faces not visible.

Were they the ones behind Madam Nerilla's death?

"Hello Panem," a male voice floated through the courtroom, "I'm sure you're wondering who we are."

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," another voice said, sounding much more authoritative and official.

"We're the Five," this time, a female voice said, "We've seen the fight this country has put up all this time."

"And we commend you for it," another male voice that was very young, "But you've failed to achieve what you wish to. Hence, it's time for us to take charge."

"Let's make this easier for all of us to go through with," the fifth voice said, again of a man, self-entitled.

And the image changed, showing corpses of all our commanding officers, and I gasped aloud, fresh tears brimming up. What nightmare was this?! How could this be happening?!

A cruel laughter emanated from the projection as the silhouettes appeared again. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be happening, _this couldn't be happening!_

"It will be beneficial for you to obey our command," the first man said.

"Yes, because we're the gods of this new world, and you wouldn't want to infuriate us," the second, official voice said.

"And to discipline you, we're re-introducing the Hunger Games, for you don't seem to know any other way," the young voice said.

And together, they continued, "We'll be in touch. Good luck Panem, may the odds be _ever_ in your favour."

And the hologram disappeared even as I ran towards it angrily. They had no right to do this, this couldn't be happening, no, no, _no! _After everything we'd done, after everything we went through…

"No… NO!"

**So, hello everyone! Welcome my friends, new and old, glad to have you here! Now, I know some of you must be thinking, "But Red, you've not even reached the Games for Mirage of Lies!" Well, that's true. I'm just opening it for the submissions, that's it. Let me know what you think of this so far!**

**And now, allow me to thank IVolunteerAsAuthor for allowing to re-write his story "The Five"! Thank you so much Caleb, much appreciated, and I hope you like how I take this story forward. I recommend everyone to take a look at the original, since it's really well written.**

**I will be accepting submissions till the time I reach the Final Eight in Mirage of Lies, so that can be around a month. The submission link is on my profile, and I've decided to take submissions via google form this time around. **

**A few rules:**

**Please don't send me tributes from the original story. I've read them, and will have trouble writing these characters properly.**

**Also, don't send in resubmissions from other stories. There are a few exceptions to this, like their story has been deleted/abandoned/not updated in at least a year, and they shouldn't have made it to the Games. If they've been in the arena, please don't submit them.**

**I accept almost any kind of tribute as long as their personalities are fleshed out, but do keep in mind that I'll most likely avoid scenes/stories that are vulgar/not fit for general public. **

**Otherwise, I'm chill, and if you want to discuss something, send me a message. Most likely, I'll be fine with anything.**

**And… enjoy guys. XD**


	2. Chapter 2

**Prologue**

The man was certain that he and the other four had had a desired effect on the people of Panem. President Nerilla was dead, Alejandro was dead, he had free reign on the country now.

But even as he poured over his computer, trying to look for her, going through endless files and reports, Giovanni Delmount found it irritating how his siblings weren't as serious about it as he was. Sure, he was Number One, practically the leader of the Five, but that didn't mean that the others couldn't take some initiative of their own.

"I still believe that our announcement had been theatrical," Number Two, Louis, muttered as he sat down beside his brother.

"And we'll have to take responsibility for it soon," Giovanni replied, eyes scanning the computer screen, handsome face creased with a frown.

At that moment, a beautiful woman entered the room, looking positively confident as she too sat down by her brothers, glancing at Giovanni with a smirk.

"How about we do that now, Gio?"

Giovanni finally acknowledged the presence of his siblings, looking up from his computer, a quiet rage in his eyes even as his sister, Dianna sniggered, and Louis just looked as if he anticipated trouble.

"Number Three," Giovanni said, trying to keep his voice smooth, "I'd rather we all use our numbers when addressing each other."

"Come _on_!" Dianna exclaimed, rolling her eyes, "There's _nobody _else here, Gio. You're being paranoid for nothing."

"_Paranoid?!_" Giovanni bellowed, standing up, glaring at his sister, "We need to keep our guard up all the time, Number Three."

Dianna rolled her eyes at her brother and turned to the other one.

"I was thinking of going to a club tonight. Want to tag along?"

Louis smiled at her but shook his head.

"I think I'll have to pass."

"Going to a _club_?!" Giovanni exclaimed, glaring at his sister as if she were the stupidest human he had ever seen, "Are. You. Mad?! How can you be so reckless?!"

"Oh Gio, nobody knows who we are," she sighed, "And why not just enjoy ourselves while we're here?"

"We're not here to enjoy," Giovanni said, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper, "We're here for a mission."

Before Dianna could retort, Louis stood up between them, and sighed.

"Di, drop it. Gio, calm down."

"Did I hear a quarrel between Gio and Di?"

The three siblings looked up at the doorway. Leaning against the frame was their youngest brother, Number Four, Joffrey, a sly smirk on his face. Number Five, Harry, entered the room too, and took in the scene, shaking his head.

"You guys are honestly fighting again?"

"Gio feels that he has the right to control us," Dianna interjected, "And I just wanted to tell him how wrong he is."

"I'm not controlling anyone!" Giovanni said, his temper rising, clearly struggling to not hit Dianna, "I'm just concerned about our mission."

"Oh, that can be accomplished as we have fun," Joffrey grinned, "By the way, I was eavesdropping on you guys. Di, I'll accompany you to the club."

"NONE OF YOU IS GOING ANYWHERE!"

"Shut up," Joffrey said lazily, "It's not as if you will _actually _do anything anyway. Both you and I know that we can't find her on the Internet."

"She's our family, and I'm sorry it upsets you that I care about our sister, but we're here to look for her, and I'd rather you don't lose sight of that."

"We're your family too, Gio!" Dianna snapped, feeling furious at her over-controlling brother, "It'd be nice to have you care about us too."

"I do care about you!"

"It doesn't seem that way," Harry muttered.

"Guys! Calm down!" Louis exclaimed, walking in to the centre, ever the mediator, "Gio, you need to let them relax. Dianna, Joffrey, Harry, please try to see where Gio is coming from. We're all here for a purpose. Let's not forget it."

"We don't even know whether Mary Elizabeth exists!" Dianna cried out angrily, pushing Louis out of the way, "We've been all our resources, all our time, all our strength to find her and we don't even know who we are looking for!"

"We can't just forget her and move on!" Giovanni yelled back furiously, "She's our sister!"

Dianna glared at Number One angrily, unable to understand why he couldn't see her way of things. They had taken over a _country _to look for a girl they didn't even know! They had started the Hunger Games again to distract everyone, they were investing time and money and resources to keep things under control! Dianna at least deserved to go out as and when she liked!

"Di," Joffrey said, an amused smirk on his face, earning a look of disapproval from Louis, "Let's go out."

And despite the warning glare from her brother, Dianna turned on her heels and followed her youngest brother out of the room. Harry looked on awkwardly, before leaving hurriedly too, not wanting to be with Giovanni when he was angry.

Louis sighed, looking over at his brother. He knew Giovanni loved them, his family, the most in the world. Yes, it sometimes got too much, with all the restrictions, but Louis knew his brother meant well.

"Gio..."

"Get out Louis, I don't want anyone here."

"But-"

"OUT!"

And Louis nodded, knowing how dangerous his brother could be when he was angry. Letting out a shaky breath, he followed his siblings out, leaving Giovanni alone to carry on his desperate search.

**Hi guys! So, I know it has been a long time since the first prologue, but that's because I was focusing on MoL. So, what do you think of this? We'll slowly get to know the Five better, but I hope you like the little insight on them here. Again, I'd like to thank Caleb for allowing me to write this! **

**I've decided to keep the final submission deadline as **_**9**__**th**__** September. **_**Do send me the tributes for this, and if you have any questions, please ask away! The submission link is on my profile, keep sending in your amazing tributes! **

**Have a great day! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Prologue**

She was used to her big, comfortable mansion, with its many servants, surplus of food and drinks, and most importantly, a sense of safety. However, this dingy bunker, with its musty smell and a single oil lamp lighting the place dimly, didn't make her feel any of those things.

It was almost eight in the evening, and Star Abbot was running out of her coffee, and she didn't dare to make more. There was a curfew outside, yet she was expecting friends. They were supposed to have arrived about twenty minutes ago, and Star was getting agitated. What if they had been caught? Star's hand holding the coffee mug froze in mid-air, as the thought crossed her already frustrated mind. She didn't want to be pessimistic, but it was a possibility, and she had to be ready for it.

Star started when she heard somebody fiddle with the door of the bunker, and she hastily put down her mug and picked up the nearest weapon, a small yet sharp knife, and she rushed to the shadows, holding the knife tightly as if her life depended on it, heart beating as if she had run a marathon, holding her breath, even as she felt the door open. She didn't know whether it was friend or foe, but she was certain that this little knife couldn't save her if it came down to that. Yet, she held on, her knuckles turning white with the force.

"Star?"

Star didn't lower the knife even as Everleigh's hushed voice reached her ears. She stayed where she was, hidden in the shadows, looking on, waiting for her friends to show their faces before she would lower her guard.

She let out a sigh when Everleigh and Rohan came walking in, both looking really disturbed.

"Star?" Rohan said, raising their voice just a notch, barley audible to the girl.

"Everleigh!" Star exclaimed and rushed out of her hiding. The singer felt a surge of relief course through her to see her friends alive and safe, for she had imagined a lot of things, things that weren't particularly nice, and soon she gave Everleigh a hug, that her friend returned.

"Star!" Everleigh said, smiling, although it didn't quite reach her tired eyes, "I'm so glad to see you're okay! I felt for a second that you- that you-"

But Everleigh couldn't bring herself to say it, to say what she felt, for it was too painful to even think about it.

"No no!" Star said, laughing lightly, "I was just hiding because you guys were late and I didn't know who had come."

"Hey," Rohan muttered, "Hello to you too."

The two girls laughed at the only male's remark, and Star gave him a friendly punch on the arm. Laughter was something that had become a rarity these days, friendships even more so, and Star was glad that her friends had assembled here. Recently, 'The Five' had put a bounty on everyone who used to be popular in the Capitol: actors, singers, celebrities…

Star, being a pop sensation, was in hiding since the past two weeks, moving from one bunker to the other, covering her face, wearing makeup that made her unrecognisable if she ever needed to move out, but she knew these things would soon catch attention too. Everleigh was a rebel quite openly, and thus, she was also on the run. As for Rohan, the young man was an 'immigrant', a highly undesirable description at this stage. He was from a far off land of Aryavarta, that Star didn't even know existed until he came along, when things in Panem had started to settle and he and a few others had accidentally discovered it. This always made Star wonder how little she, and everyone else, knew so little about the world that they lived in. She had not known there were other countries out there, probably because she had never given enough thought to it, and Rohan hadn't known about Panem, so most probably he also hadn't thought much about the world. It was kind of funny when she thought about it; humans were so engrossed in their own realities that they never had the time to think of the alternatives.

"Star," Everleigh said, breaking her chain of thoughts and she tore her gaze away from the foreign boy to her closest friend, "We don't have much time. We know who the Five are, at least by their faces, but we're no close to actually finding them."

"I don't know how to go about that," Star sighed, brushing her long hair off her sunken face, "How many people have they captured?"

"About a hundred."

Star Abbot let out a shaky breath as she took in the words of her friend. Hundred people… hundred people who could have done _something_… who had been rebels, their comrades… captured.

_And,_ Star thought as a shudder went through her spine, tears threatening to fall, _Probably killed._

"The Capitolites are in the gravest danger," Rohan said, and put his arm around Star, his dark eyes intense as he looked at the two girls, "I stand by my offer. If you wish, I will rescue you both from this country. You can come with me; we'll get far away from here."

"And we still stand by our decision," Everleigh retorted, her eyes fiery, challenging the young man, "We're not abandoning our country."

"Besides," Star interjected as she sensed an oncoming fight between her two friends, who always seemed to be quarrelling, "You kind of ran away from your country?"

"I didn't _run_ away!" he said indignantly, "My team and I were sent to travel the world and discover new places! We just travelled too far from home, on our ship, and landed here. As you can see, most of my team left to report it back, and we kind of stayed behind because you seemed to be a young nation and we wanted to know how it worked!"

He shut his eyes after the outburst, and Star had the sudden urge to give him a hug. In this dark, run down room, they were all running from everything that was outside, and Star could feel for him; being trapped into something that shouldn't even concern you would feel horrible. Star could argue that she felt the same way as him, for the Five had nothing to do with her, and yet they were intent on ruining her life, all their lives, and she almost cracked when she recalled the image of President Nerilla's dead body, bloody and broken, sprawled on the very clean floor.

"We need to figure out a plan of action," Everleigh said pointedly, and Star was grateful to her for breaking this very awkward silence.

"I say we eat first," the male said, his earlier frown replaced by a toothy grin, as he pulled out from his bag, that Star had just noticed, three burgers, and set them down on the wooden table.

"Where did you get these?" Everleigh asked as she yanked his bag from him and rummaged through its contents as if she would find some hidden treasure in it. from her expression, she probably did.

"I stole them," Rohan replied proudly, "It was past curfew, and it was hard, but I got them. And the food."

"There are plenty of chocolates in here too! And sandwiches! You're a genius!"

Star curiously glanced into the coveted bag, expecting something big yet mundne. What else could he have stolen?

Hence, her eyes widened in fear and excitement, her heart felt a rush, and she had goose-bumps all through her body, for her gaze was met with guns…

**Hey guys! Here's the third prologue for this story, and I kind of like how this turned out: short and simple. It was fun to write! What do you think of all the characters we've seen so far? Also, if you're wondering where Aryavarta is, it's the South Asian region, around the Indian subcontinent. Aryavarta is an ancient name for the place, and I thought it was cool. We will see people from a few other nations as well, because it should be fun. :D**

**The submissions are still open! Please do submit, I'd love to have the opportunity t write your amazing characters! :D The deadline is 9****th**** September, so there's still some time. Looking forward to your submissions!**

**Have a great day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Prologue **

The cell was cold and chilly, and she shivered on the floor, wrapping her arms around her tightly, legs chained to the wall, clothes torn, body adorned with bruises. She didn't know how long she'd been here; all she knew that she had been brought all the way from her country to this hell-hole, enslaving her.

She knew he would be coming at any moment, just as he did everyday, showing her how she was his trophy, what a big favour he was doing by keeping her alive. Her body gave a violent jolt as she thought of him.

The floor, made of some grey stone, was as cold as ice against her skin. She wished he would have given her a blanket, at least, to cover herself against this cold. But he was ruthless, and she knew in heart she wanted no favour from him.

The cell door was unlocked, and she started. She knew who it was, but she couldn't help but let fear grip her, and her heart started hammering, and she was aware of how torn her clothes were, and how exposed she was to this man, and she immediately tried to cover her chest even as the man's footfalls neared her.

Regardless of her fear, and the fact that she was a prisoner and at his mercy, Ingrid Michalina held her captives gaze steadily. Internally, she felt sick at seeing his demonic smirk, but she wasn't going to show her feelings.

"How are you, Ingrid?" he asked, taunting her at her powerlessness.

"*** off."

"That's not very polite, is it? As a _princess, _you must maintain your demeanour."

And there he went again, reminding her of what she was, what she could have been, and what she had been reduced to. Ingrid didn't say anything to that, and the man laughed out, his laugh mirthless and cruel, making Ingrid's skin crawl.

She recoiled as he cupped her face gently, smiling.

"Ah, my beautiful trophy princess, how I love you! If only you would have given me a chance to be your prince, we could be ruling Europia together."

And that was all she needed to snap, just like she always did, and she was painfully aware that he knew it too. Yet, she couldn't help it.

"SHUT UP!" she cried out, making him laugh like always, "Just because you and your siblings have overtaken Europe doesn't mean that's it's 'Europia' now! You *** invaders! You spread filth wherever you go! *** you! *** the Five!"

"Damn, you curse a lot. That's not how a princess should behave."

Ingrid pushed him hard, but due to days of starvation, there was no strength left in her to make an impact. The man laughed at her feeble attempts, and grabbed her wrists, pulling her away from her body, exposing it, and Ingrid wished that she was dead as he gazed at her in a way as dirty as he and his ideals were.

"My offer still stands, Ingrid. Marry me, and you'll have your former glory. Refuse me, and keep rotting."

It was the same sentence she'd been hearing since a year, ever since she lost and let her people down. This man had been torturing her all this while, forcing her to accompany him wherever he went, even bringing her all the way from Europe to Panem. It was so redundant now that Ingrid didn't even think it was worth responding to it.

"Are you all honestly looking for this 'sister' or are you just using that story to gain sympathy where force doesn't work?"

"That's an interesting question," he said, his eyes wandering, inspecting her from top to toe, "Well, the others really are looking for Mary Elizabeth. We lost her when she was a baby, and the others are hopeful. I, however, am confident she's not around."

"So I was thinking right."

"You're always thinking right, Ingrid. Yes, I tag along with my siblings, but whereas they are foolishly looking for a girl, _I _aim to conquer the world, and my siblings help, even when they don't know."

"Conquer the whole world...?" Ingrid whispered, and now she looked fully at his handsome face, his deadly smirk looking crueller with each passing second.

"Yes, the way we conquered your dear Belarus and the rest of Europe, and united it under Europia. The way we have conquered Panem, and we'll stabilise things here too. The others will hunt the whole world for Mary Elizabeth, and we will conquer other countries. Misr, Aryavarta, Filipinas, Oceania... And the rest of the world, slowly and steadily.

"And you know what, Ingrid? Ultimately, _I _will be the emperor of this unified world."

His eyes gleamed darkly and Ingrid felt paralysed, unable to move, unable to think, unable to process what she was hearing. The terror of this monster... On the whole world...?

And before she knew it, he had grabbed her long hair and pulled it back so hard it hurt, and she voluntarily let out a cry, causing him to smile coldly.

"Marry me, Ingrid. You can be the Empress of this new world."

"To hell with you!"

With a dramatic sigh, he let her hair go. She was glad when he started walking away, but, as always, he stopped right at the door, and spoke without looking back at her.

"In the end you're going to either marry me or beg me for your death. For your sake, I hope it's the former."

And this time, he really did leave, and Ingrid was left to ponder on her life as the princess of Belarus, and the countless people she had failed.

However, unknown to them both, a third person had been listening to this conversation keenly. She was close to the Five, namely Dianna, from her time in current Europia. They didn't mind her coming to Panem, for she had earned their trust back in the conquered land. And she did not plan to go against them either.

No, she was here for her own purpose, her own country, and if the Five had had given it some thought, they would have realised that Lisa Hermosa was the biggest immediate threat they had. And as she listened, in the shadows, the footsteps of the man, she knew she had to make use of her connection with him and the rest of them.

They needed a Head Gamemaker, and who better than a person they considered a friend?

And while she felt for the former princess of Belarus, Lisa Hermosa was here for a purpose, and that was to make sure that the Five would never conquer her home.

Filipinas was not going to be anyone's slave.

**Hi guys! This is our fourth prologue, and I admit I had fun writing it. Please let me know what you think of it! Who do you think it was with Ingrid among Giovani, Louis, Joffery and Harry? What do you think of the world building so far? **

**We'll have two more prologues before we start with tribute introductions, and I would take a check in at the end of the last prologue. **

**Speaking of tributes, thank you so much everyone for submitting! I'm sorry everyone, who couldn't make it in. To those who did, congratulations! :D**

**I'm not putting up a list here. To know which tributes have been accepted, please visit the blog. **

**The blog is recrudescehg . weebly . com **

**Please do let me know what you think of the tributes and our Capitol cast! Your input and feedback will be really appreciated!**

**In case you're confused about the places on the blog, for your reference :**

**Panem is America**

**Europia is Europe including the whole of Russia **

**Aryavarta is Indian subcontinent **

**Misr is Egypt and surrounding areas **

**Buganda is Uganda **

**Filipinas is Philippines **

**Peru is Peru only XD **

**Also, if you're feeling creative, do check out my friend IVolunteerAsAuthor! He has a new SYOT open and he's always got good plots! **

**Have a great day!**

**PS: Some of the pictures sent in for the face claims couldn't be downloaded. In these cases, I've used a picture that was closest to the picture sent. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Prologue **

"I can't believe you stumbled across here too. I guess I'm not the only one with a rotten luck."

"Does that help you calm down?"

Rohan Swami glanced at the speaker, and sighed slowly.

"In all honesty, it does," he replied, before proceeding to cut the loaf of bread into slices.

His conversation partner, however, had a twinkle in his eyes despite the downcast response he gave. The two had been hiding at another bunker, which felt more of a box, along with Everleigh and Star. The girls, who were comfortable with Rohan, had been sceptical about his friend's presence at first. But some time had passed since then, and Yunous Ali Khan was pretty much a part of the gang now. And the girls were highly entertained, mainly because Rohan still expressed his disbelief of having Yunous stuck in Panem as well.

Yunous was from Misr, and Rohan was from Aryavarta. The man remembered how, three years ago, the two of them had crossed paths in Buganda, when they'd both been trying to find new lands. The Bugandan emperor had been really kind to them both, and had helped forge strong relationships with both the countries. Apparently, before the Five came, they had sent a group of models to Panem as well, in order to encourage the young country to take part in global events. Well, even Yunous had been sent to Panem because Misr had thought that ties could be strengthened between their countries. President Nerilla had sent her envoy to Misr, and they had sent Yunous.

But President Nerilla was dead now, and Yunous was stuck here with a good friend of his, who had just stumbled across Panem when travelling the world. He was sure neither of them had any idea how to get away from this torn country, and it was probably safer for them to hide with the rebels than declare their presence to the Five.

So here they were, the four of them.

"Are you done?" Everleigh asked, as she and Star pondered over a map of sorts.

"Dude, if you're in a hurry, why don't you do it?" Rohan retorted as he started putting the butter on the bread slices.

"Preparing bread butter shouldn't take so much time. You're inefficient."

Rohan glared at Everleigh for a second, then continued with his work. Yunous watched, chuckling slowly, as his friend carried two plates over to the girls, and slammed them down on the table, beside the map.

"Thanks bro," Star said, smiling.

"Dude! We're supposed to be rationing stuff!" Everleigh exclaimed, "There's so much butter here!"

Her friend scoffed at that, rolling his eyes, as Star giggled.

"Fine, I'll bring you another plate that doesn't have this much butter."

"Come _on_!" Everleigh sighed and bit into her meal before Rohan could replace it, making Yunous laugh out loud. His friend shot him a deadly look, before working his way back to the slices of bread to prepare food for himself and Yunous.

"Everleigh," Star said, "I think we should escape to District Ten. I've heard there is a stronger rebel base there, and they're actually least affected by the Five's appearance."

"I've also heard that immigrants are being hunted there though," Everleigh replied, "And the mayor has really shifted to the other side."

"That freaking snake!"

"I know Star. He'd helped us so much during our fight, it's actually hard to believe he is actually betraying us now."

"He's a two-faced snake, that's what he is."

As Rohan settled down beside Yunous, the older man couldn't help but pipe into the conversation.

"Why don't you two take up Rohan's offer and escape? I mean, what's left here for you?"

It was now that Everleigh turned to face Yunous completely, looking at him as if seeing him clearly for the first time. The man smiled to himself, knowing what her reply was going to be.

"I can't, Yunous. Panem is my home. You don't desert your home, your family, in their hour of need."

"Exactly," Star agreed, "We can't leave Panem when we had worked so hard to free it. Sure, it's been captured, but we're going to fight till the end for our freedom."

And that's what he loved about his new friends. They were brave and selfless, and he smiled at them warmly. However, he was afraid for their safety, along with his own.

"By the way," Rohan said suddenly, "I think I do have an idea about who the Five are!"

"What?!" Everleigh and Star exclaimed, jumping to their feet. Yunous leaned back against the worn out sofa, expecting his friend to come up with some fancy conspiracy theory.

"Well, Yunous, do you remember that a year ago, some mysterious people had taken over the whole of Europe and renamed it as Europia?"

Now, this was intriguing. The man from Misr sat a little straighter now, nodding slowly. Of course, he remembered. That wasn't too long ago, and he recalled the chaos it had caused across the globe.

"Well, there were five of them then, four men and one woman. It's the same this time too. I believe the Five that have captured Panem are the same who conquered Europe."

"Wait, what's all this about?" Everleigh asked, looking lost, and Star looked just as confused.

"Ugh, I keep forgetting you guys aren't up to date with world affairs!"

Everleigh opened her mouth to argue, but Yunous cut her off.

"Basically, there's this continent called Europe, which has a lot of countries. They were all peaceful and pretty, and we could safely say they were some of the best countries in the world. However, a couple of years ago, some mysterious people started attacking all these countries, and by last year, they captured the entire continent and renamed it as Europia, and finished the identity of all the different countries.

"Rohan believes it's the same people who are attacking us here, in Panem. And, now that I think about it, it seems right."

"Isn't that a little far-fetched?" Star wondered.

"No, it's not, actually," Everleigh replied, frowning, "It actually makes a lot of sense. If they can take over so many countries, they must certainly be up to something, and conquering one more nation, and that too one as broken as Panem, wouldn't have been hard at all. However, the question is _why _would they do so?"

Yunous stared at his buttered bread, contemplating on Everleigh's question. _Why _would they capture Panem, of all places? Panem wasn't in the best condition, and Yunous couldn't understand what the Five would get from this.

But he definitely understood one thing.

"They've restarted the Games," he said abruptly, and all the friends turned to look at him, confused.

"Yes, they have. What about it?" Star asked.

"They're trying to distract the population. Which means that they're not here only for taking over the country."

And as soon as he said, Yunous knew that he was right. And if that was the case... He'd have to contact his other friend to find out what it was.

It was time to get in touch with Lisa Hermosa.

**Hello everyone! Here's the fifth prologue for this story, and I hope you liked it! What do you think of this chapter? And Yunous? I loved writing him!**

**We have one more prologue, that will feature Natakunda, Jason and Lisa, along with the Five! And after that, we start our tribute introductions.**

**Apart from that, I have a Discord server for my stories. If you want to join, PM me and I'll send you the link. Hoping to see you guys there!**

**Have a great day! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Prologue**

Natakunda Nasiche had no idea where she was being taken, considering she'd been blindfolded, but she was aware that she was being manhandled, and no matter how much she protested, her captors weren't going to release her. In fact, it could be argued that they were enjoying this, and Natakunda cursed the day she had agreed to come to Panem.

The head of International Society for Peace had sent Natakunda and her team to Panem, when it had become free and somewhat stable, to invite models from Panem to walk the ramp for a cause of peace and work towards strengthening ties with the international community. Madam Nerilla had loved the idea, and had sent various models to Buganda, although she had requested Natakunda to stay back for just a week longer to experience the Panemian hospitality.

Well, Madam Nerilla was dead now, and Natakunda was experiencing "Panemian hospitality" first hand.

Her hands had been cuffed, her legs ties together and she didn't know what her fate was going to be. They would probably kill her, and the mere thought brought her close to tears. Natakunda hated violence and had worked for many years towards ending it in Buganda's surrounding regions, being somewhat successful even. But now... She didn't want to die, and she didn't want anyone else to die either.

She realised she was being loaded onto some vehicle as she was slammed against a metallic floor.

"Let me go!" she screamed, and received a kick so hard in the gut that her breath almost left her. She groaned and then started protesting as someone gagged her.

Great, now she couldn't even speak.

"Bloody immigrants, never even knew they existed," one of the men said.

Natakunda wanted to correct him. She wasn't an immigrant, she was a representative of the international community to Panem, and the treatment they were giving her was inhuman, but they'd made sure to shut her up for the time being.

"Rot in that horrible jail, you ***," another man said and kicked her in the side, before slamming the door shut.

It was sweltering in the vehicle, and even as the engine started, Natakunda started struggling, knowing it was in vain.

* * *

Jason Magagna knew what was going on around the world, but those things were none of his concern.

His only concern was to make sure he delivered in a way that made every film of his a blockbuster. One of his films last year had bombed at the box office, and Jason was still annoyed with it. It had been a good film too, but the audience hadn't liked it.

Jason had been particular about scripts since then. And he must admit that he had made some really good choices, for all his films were blockbusters now, and Jason could give himself a pat on the back.

"Son, I think you should join politics now."

Jason sighed. There he went again, his father and current President of Peru, Danilo Magagna. Jason didn't quite get why his father wanted him to be involved in politics; Jason had already won the hearts of the Peruvians through his acting. And anyway, Jason was not interested in running the country; he just wanted to grow as a performer and get offers globally. Why did his father not understand such a simple thing?

"I'm not interested, dad," he said, leaning into his soft leather couch, taking a puff of his cigarette. President Danilo stared disapprovingly, but Jason didn't care. He needed his cigarettes to fight off work and family related stress. Danilo was already planning to get him married to the Princess of Brasilia, against his wishes, to strengthen his 'political alliance'. Jason had never even seen the woman in his life, and all he knew was that she was five years older to him and beautiful, but he didn't care. Jason could still not believe that his father was _selling _him off like that, and he's actually gotten a heart attack when Jason had refused. Reluctantly, he had agreed to it eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to truly forgive his father.

And now he wanted to control his professional life too.

"How do you expect to be elected to power then? It's high time you make yourself interested."

"I don't want power!" Jason screamed, extinguishing the cigarette and throwing it away, "I just want to live my life! Is that too much to ask for!"

Danilo looked at his son sadly, and averted his eyes, sighing slowly.

"It's unfortunate that you're born in a family that has been giving leaders to this country for centuries. We can't let go of this legacy, Jason. You have to maintain it."

"I can't be a President anyway, father," Jason retorted heatedly, "You're selling me off into a marriage!"

"I'm doing what's best for you and the country."

"Enough! If you didn't want me to live on my terms, why did you bring me to this world?!"

"To continue the family legacy," Danilo replied coldly, "You serve no other purpose to me or this country. So stop with your self-pity and your stupid hobbies!"

As his father's words, Jason's eyes brimmed with tears. So... He had been right. His father finally said it, that the reason for his existence was some political legacy...

And Jason turned around and walked away into his room, locking the door behind him. He sank to his bed and cried and cried and _cried. _He wanted to escape, get away somewhere, anywhere, but this house. His father didn't care about his life, about anything. Jason was a mere pawn for his games.

And that's when Jason decided that he was escaping this place. It didn't matter where it was, or what hardships he'd have to face, but as long as those were _his _hardships and he was living _his _life, he didn't care.

He was going _now_.

* * *

Dianna paced the floor briskly, lost in thought.

Giovanni had tasked her to set up a Gamemaking team, for he didn't 'have time for such nonsense'. Dianna scoffed when she recalled her brother's face when he had said that. What did he think? She was there to do the work that was _beneath _him?

Regardless, it was really important that she did something. It had been over a month since they took over Panem, and the time was coming when the usual hunger games happened. Yet, the Five didn't have a team ready, and nobody in Europia knew how to handle such a thing; the Games were a speciality of Panem. Of course, there were creative people around, and Dianna hoped to spot them soon.

"Ugh! Why do _I _have to do this?!"

"Come on sis," Joffery yawned, "Why not just assemble the people who used to be Gamemakers?"

Dianna stopped her pacing just to glare at her brother as if she'd seen something stupid and shook her head.

"They were in power, Joffery. And they know this country better than we do. Obviously, we can't use them."

"Oh right. I forgot."

Dianna sighed and started pacing again, when her tensed eyes rested on the other girl in the room, who was apparently reading a newspaper. Oh, why didn't she think of this before!

"Lisa, you can be the Head Gamemaker!"

The girl from Filipinas looked up from the paper, eyes astounded, as she considered her friend's words, bewildered.

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me Li! You're so creative and tough, I'm sure you'll do a good job!"

"Dude, I'm not from Panem. I don't know how this thing works. Besides, didn't you want someone local doing this job?"

"I did, but now I want you to do it. As for how you'll go about it, I'll arrange for the videos of the old Games so that you have an idea. Under your supervision, I'm sure the Europians would do well too."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Joffery interjected, "We need to talk to Gio about it, Di."

"Gio has told me that I decide things related to the Games, Joffery. I don't need his permission."

"What about the others? Harry? Louis?"

"I don't care. Do _you _have any problem?"

Joffery looked into his sister's eyes for a second, almost as if he wanted to say something, but shook his head.

"No Di. Lisa is my friend too. I'd rather trust her than some random Panemian."

"Exactly!"

"Guys... I love your support, but I don't think I'm fit for this job-"

"Li, didn't you say you wanted to help us find Mary Elizabeth?"

"Of course I want to help you, Di!" Lisa exclaimed, "That's why I'm _here. _But the Games-"

"They'll be easy for you Lisa. Just say yes!"

Lisa Hermosa stared at her friend for a second, her excitement reaching the girl as well. Lisa sighed in exasperation, but nodded, much to Dianna's glee.

"Fine," she said, "Don't expect a brilliant job though."

However, Dianna didn't listen to anything. She hugged her friend tightly, thankful that at least one of her burdens were off her shoulders. Lisa, on her part, stroked her hair gently, her calm eyes studying Joffery, who was unusually quiet and had a slight smile.

She had to watch out for him.

Because, although Lisa looked as if she were only doing Dianna and the Five a favour, her heart was soaring. This would bring her closer to the other brothers, especially Giovanni, who was certainly in charge here. Lisa was eager to find out whatever information she could, and she was glad that Dianna had herself chosen her as the new Head Gamemaker. Yes, she was _not _looking forward to killing so many children, but if things went as she planned, the Five would be finished soon, and this might be the last Hunger Games ever.

Right now though, she just smiled at her friend, preparing herself for the new role.

**And that's the last prologue for this story! Tribute introductions start next chapter! I'm excited for it, and I hope you're too!**

**So what did you think of this chapter? The characters and the events? Do let me know in a review!**

**Also, I'll be doing check-ins this time, just to keep track of who's reading. So the first check in question is: Who do you think is Ingrid's captor? She appeared in fourth prologue, just for your reference. PM me the answer. **

**Also, as mentioned in the previous chapter, I've a Discord server. If you would like to join, PM me and I'll send you the link! :D**

**Have a great day! **


	7. Chapter 7

**District One**

* * *

**Jupiter Aeneas, 18**

**District One Male**

**Three months before the Reapings**

* * *

The blood dripped off his tanned skin, knuckles turning red due to the liquid. And yet he punched, punched, punched and punched _hard_, not stopping when his fist became raw, nor when it finally started bleeding, and not now, when it was coated in his own blood.

He didn't know why he always chose this particular wall to punch. Perhaps, it was the many laughter that echoed in his ears as he passed it. Perhaps, it were the tears that had fallen down that day. He didn't know, and he wasn't interested in finding out either. All he knew that the wall was his sole companion in his hardship, the only remnant of his old home, the rest of the house in ruins. Passers-by often stared at him as he punched on the wall that was surrounded by debris nobody wanted to come near to, but he didn't care. Those rebels had ruined him, ruined his home, ruined his _life._

"Jupiter, stop!"

The young man could hear his friend's voice as if a call from some distant past, and thus ignored it altogether. And so, he punched again, and again, and-

"What are you doing?!"

Evander grabbed his wrist and lowered his arm, his soft eyes looking into Jupiter's own harsh ones, demanding an answer they weren't about to get. Jupiter pulled his arm free from his friend's grip, and then turned around, beginning his walk to the sorry excuse of a home he had. He was vaguely aware that Evander was following his, his footsteps muffled under Jupiter's own snort, and soon he was being turned around rather forcefully by his only friend, who reached out for his hands. Jupiter withdrew them instinctively; he didn't need Evander fussing over the blood.

"Dude, you hiding your hands doesn't mean I don't know how bloody they are."

Jupiter locked eyes with his friend, and refused to obey him. He may be correct, but the young man wasn't going to admit it anytime soon.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Evander almost yelled out, shaking his friend's shoulders in exasperation, before running his hands on his own face, looking so lost that Jupiter felt bad about being the way he was. There he went again, hurting his only friend in the world, the way he always did.

"It reminds me of home," Jupiter whispered, his voice so low that he was certain that Evander didn't really catch it. however, his friend was, by now, used to his varying tempers and moods, and could read him well too. He didn't need to be told what Jupiter was going through; but Evander's heart ached for his friend. It was painful to see him struggle every day, hate piling up inside up inside him with each passing second, and Evander wished to have the old Jupiter back. He missed the boy who had a joke for every situation, a smile in any circumstance, and easy-going and calming attitude in any problem. But that boy was dead, replaced by the bitter man, the man who was angry at the world, who let out his anger in disastrous ways, and who was hurting from his battle with himself.

"I know," Evander replied and shut his eyes. Well, the wall really had been a part of Jupiter's old house, from the time when his family was well off. But then… those rebels came along, and destroyed everything.

"But that doesn't mean you should hurt yourself."

"I'm not hurting myself," Jupiter replied haughtily, "I'm just training."

"For what?"

And Jupiter went silent at that. The Games… the rebels had abolished them. Jupiter recalled how much he hated the Games but loved training, and he would have supported the rebels had they not been such hypocrites. Earlier, he used to train for the sake of training. Right now… he didn't know.

"Jupiter, you have to move on-"

"Dad's dead, Evander. He's dead. Mom's in shock. My sisters… they're in denial. And all because of those bloody rebels!"

"Jupiter-"

"They came along, proclaiming their goodness, when in reality, they're just a bunch of hypocrites! They deserve to be killed! To be finished! To be destroyed! Dad…"

And Jupiter couldn't speak anymore, for his voice cracked, and his throat was constricting as tears welled up in his eyes. His father, a Peacekeeper, had died trying to protect the District from those disgusting rebels. They had destroyed everything; his home, his family, his life… everything…

"Come home with me. Let me tend to your hands."

"I don't want-"

_"Jupiter."_

The young man sighed as his friend narrowed his soft, caring eyes at him. He knew he hurt Evander with his behaviour all the time. He hurt his sisters and he hurt his mother, but most of all, he hurt himself. Yet, he couldn't stop. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't.

"By the way, how's your job going?" his friend asked as he started walking him home. Jupiter mentally cursed himself; this was another blunder he had caused. And since Evander had helped him get the job, he didn't have the heart to tell his friend.

"Jupiter?"

"Well-uh-"

"Don't tell me you got kicked out again!" Evander groaned, slapping his forehead. This was the nineteenth time this had happened, and it didn't seem as if it was about to stop any time soon. Evander had told Jupiter repeatedly to keep his temper in check, and while he knew that his friend meant well, his anger issues would soon leave him unemployable throughout the District.

"I found another job," Jupiter said quickly, "It's of loading and unloading delivery trucks when goods come in for that grocer."

"And?"

"And…" Jupiter bit his lip anxiously, his anger towards himself rising. Why was he the way he was? Why couldn't he just practice some self-restrain? _Why?_

"And I got kicked out again."

"Dude!"

"I'm sorry, alright! I shouldn't have blown up. I-I just can't help it!"

"Let it be," Evander said dejectedly, sending another pang through Jupiter's heart; he had hurt his friend again, as usual, "Just let's fix up your hands."

And so, he followed his friend towards his home, the blood on his knuckles slowly drying, even as his heart cried for his dead father.

* * *

**Margaery Goldman, 18**

**District One Female**

**One week before the Reapings**

* * *

Margaery couldn't understand what the fuss was about.

All around her, excited trainees gave her long, admiring looks from afar, as if afraid to approach her. Many had glanced at her in admiration, many had given her jealous looks, many had even started talking behind her back, but Margaery didn't care. Nobody had congratulated her personally, and while it didn't matter to Margaery, she couldn't get why people were so shy to talk to her.

She couldn't understand what the fuss was about.

The Games were just a week away, and the environment in the District had turned festive. As Margaery stepped through the Academy walls onto the clean pavement of Kraftsville, the small town where she lived her mundane life, she could see hoardings everywhere, hoardings that bore her in her boyish clothes, and the photographs of Jupiter Aeneas, the person who would accompany her to the Games. While she had taken the news of her selection as the volunteer rather calmly, the same couldn't be said for Jupiter. There was a fire in his eyes that sort of scared even the trainers. Margaery was vaguely aware that his father had been killed in the rebel conquest, and she was glad that he had another chance at volunteering, at overcoming his grief.

It was sad, however, that Jupiter wasn't going to win.

Margaery chuckled quietly to herself as she thought about her time in the Games, vividly imagining herself reaching the finale, and taking down her unnamed competition, fire burning the forests behind them, the sky unable to decide whether it wanted to be a hue of pink or red. And then she imagined the crown to be placed on her head, and she hoped that they would get a better crown this time. Usually, the victor's crown was more of a tiara and rather… feminine. There was nothing wrong with being feminine, but Margaery didn't like its design. No, the crown should be like a proper crown, worn by kings and not princesses. With the change in leadership, she really hoped they would take this into consideration.

She leaned against the wall of the Academy, the sky turning red as the sun set slowly, and folded her arms across her chest, smirking at her poster. She was literally everywhere, as far as the eye could see, and Margaery wouldn't deny liking it. She liked the attention she got, but she wasn't hungry for it. She just liked it. also, she liked the picture that they had chosen. She looked intimidating, strong, aloof. She liked it a lot.

"Hey dude, what're you doing here?"

"Admiring myself," Margaery smirked, not turning her gaze away from the hoardings, knowing Tyler wouldn't mind.

"Bro, that's so conceited."

"I know."

Margaery smiled at her friend as he leaned against the wall, beside her, as well, looking critically at her posters. He let out a low whistle, making her smirk again.

"Why, you _do_ look nice here! When was this taken?"

"A week ago, after they declared me the volunteer."

"Sweet."

"Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Of you? No way!"

"Yeah, you need to be in the same league to be jealous."

She chuckled as her friend slapped her arm in mock fury, cursing her under his breath. Tyler was chilled out, and maybe that was why Margaery clicked with him in the first place. they were best friends ever since, inseparable, and she planned on keeping it that way. She put her arm around his shoulder, and he copied the action, following which they again turned towards the posters.

"Jupiter looks _angry,_" Tyler noted.

"He's always angry."

"How're you going to handle that?"

"Why will I handle anything?"

"True."

Tyler sighed, earning a concerned glance from his friend. He turned to her, worry evident on his face, and asked, "I feel so bad for your poor mentors and escort. They will have to handle you!"

"Well, they're better than you, and you can handle me somewhat, so I don't see the problem at all," Margaery replied with a straight face, "I think the bigger concern would be if you had been the chosen volunteer."

"Thanks bro, for reminding me," Tyler said bitterly, making Margaery laugh.

"Bro, you still have next year!"

"You know that I don't really want to go into the Games, right? I just want to hang out here, at the Academy, among attractive girls."

_"Of course."_

"And you," Tyler added as an afterthought, "Pretty girls and you."

"Dumb girls," Margaery corrected, "And me."

Before Tyler could retaliate, the Academy door swung open, and out walked a gang of four girls, their hair tied in high buns, their makeup not ruined by the training at all, and their smiles more dazzling than the teeth of the woman who appeared in toothpaste commercials.

"Hi Tyler!" they greeted, and Tyler waved at them with his free hand, the one that wasn't wrapped around Margaery.

"Hey ladies!"

Margaery fought back the urge to chuckle as the girls gawked at her friend. He was quite handsome, and Margaery knew a lot of people swooned over him. Yet, she always saw him as more of a brother figure than anything else, and since everybody at the Academy knew that Margaery wasn't interested in romance, they didn't care that the two hanged out a lot. Well, she did like someone too, but not enough to make a move. Besides, single life was awesome. Margaery was of firm belief that people should try it more often than get lovesick every other day.

"Well, Marge," Tyler said, freeing his arm, "I've got to go. See you around!"

"Take care Tyler," she smirked, "Don't do anything stupid."

He punched her playfully again, before joining the gang of girls, and walking away with them.

Margaery still couldn't understand why people fussed over him so much.

Or why they fussed over anything at all.

* * *

**District Ten**

* * *

**Jet Leather, 13**

**District Ten Male**

**Two years before the Reapings**

* * *

Jet Leather sat quietly on his chair in the corner.

He watched the other children, some ten but most of them eleven, making noise. Ms. Meadow had left the class due to some urgent business, and hadn't been back yet. The school children, taking advantage of their teacher's absence, were moving around the small, dingy classroom, talking to each other, eating the snacks that they had sneaked in, practicing some of the curse words that they had learnt recently. This particular activity was the most popular one, and the class was echoing with the F word and the B word, along with many others, but these two were prominent.

_Why don't they shut up?!_

Jet rested his elbows on the worn-out wooden desk, and placed his temple on his hands, trying to block out the annoying sounds his peers were making. Why was it so hard for them to just stay quiet? Jet let out a soft sigh; he already missed his cows. They just ate and rested, and made little noise, even when Jet slept near them. They were just so good at not being irritating, that Jet missed them every time that he was away from them.

"Hey Jet, catch it!"

He had no idea how or why Max had a yellow ball, or why he threw it at _him_ of all people, but he readied himself to catch it, for he didn't want it to hit him in the face. That would be embarrassing, and these annoying peers of his would annoy him even further by laughing at him. However, as usual, Jet didn't really realise when the ball had been thrown… or when it was flying towards him… or when it hit him in the face.

_What the ***!_

He stumbled back into his chair, falling backwards with a loud _thud_, even as he heard Max laugh. Jet groaned, his mind racing with all the curse words that he, just like classmates, had learnt recently, and he held his nose. It wasn't bleeding, thankfully, but he knew it was red now, because it hurt.

"Oh Jet, you couldn't catch it!" Max laughed.

_I know I couldn't catch it, you annoying brat._

Jet didn't say anything though, because of two reasons: firstly, it would be a waste of efforts, and secondly, he might say something hurtful, which he would regret later. And, despite all his flaws, Max had offered him his hand to help him up.

Jet was usually reluctant in taking help, and he had no idea why he took his hand, but he was glad that it wasn't another of Max's tricks and that the other boy actually helped him up. He also picked up the fallen chair, and smiled at Jet, who had scooped down to pick up the ball.

"You should play more," Max said wisely, "_Everyone_ is able to catch a ball."

Jet shrugged that off, opting not to say anything. From the corner of his eye, he saw Melissa watching the events rather shyly, refusing to get involved in the noise-making just like him. Jet knew Melissa well; she often visited him when he was with animals, and sneaked in to sleep by them. They had never really talked, and that was probably the reason he liked her.

She knew how to not be annoying.

And that was, according to all the worldly knowledge Jet had, the most important thing ever.

He was relieved when Max finally left him on his own, in the corner on his old chair, to go and find someone else to play with. Jet didn't really like playing. It wasn't the activity itself that bothered him; it was the over enthusiasm that the players often displayed. He was suddenly aware of the loud noises again, and kept his head down on the desk, hoping to drown out the sounds. He wished he could go play with Becky. Becky was nice, all she did was eat grass, and while his mother didn't like feeding Becky since she was always tired, Jet often volunteered to do so, in order to spend more time with her, away from humans. Sometimes, Melissa was there too, and it would actually be really fun. Jet was sad that, one day, Becky would be butchered too, just like Moo-Moo and Tiffany, but he wanted to make the most out of his time remaining with Becky, because she was awesome.

It was then that Jet noticed that Barnie, who was acting as a scout by the door, snapped fingers at the class. A hush fell on everyone in the room, and Jet blinked. Maybe Ms. Meadow was coming back. Well, it amazed Jet what people could do when under stress. His classmates started clearing away the mess that they had made, and Jet started helping instinctively. Or tried to, because he kept dropping the paper aeroplanes that his peers had made. Jet wished he wasn't this clumsy, and Max had to literally snatch the planes from him. he ran over to the dustbin and dumped them, and everyone rushed towards their seats. As usual, Jet hit the leg of his desk and hit his foot, letting out another curse word, before sitting down, feeling embarrassed and grumpy. He shouldn't have gotten up at all! Well, at least Ms Meadow hadn't seen him swear; she often punished students who did so b hitting their palms with her ruler. Jet honestly found it to be a stupid exercise, but Ms Meadow had a temper that Jet didn't want to ignite. So, he kept his mouth shut, just like always.

And just then, she just _appeared_ in the class, just like all the teachers always did, and called out to him. For a second, he thought it was another Jet, because he never did mischief in class. Then he remembered that there was no other Jet in class. Gulping, he stood up shakily, and followed her out of the class, unaware of what he had done. Was he summoned by the headmaster? But he hadn't done anything…

Once they were a few feet away from the classroom, Ms Meadow stopped. Jet hadn't been noticing, and he bumped into her, much to his embarrassment. He apologised quickly, hoping his clumsiness wouldn't increase his punishment.

"It's alright," Ms Meadow said, surprising Jet, for she _never_ forgave anything. But she was serious, she could tell from his face. What was wrong?

"Jet, dear, I'm afraid your parents have decided to withdraw you from the school. You won't be coming here from tomorrow."

And while Ms meadow looked at him with pity, Jet was happy. No school meant more time with Becky and the other animals. He didn't see why this wasn't a good thing.

He smiled.

* * *

**Avni Silvan, 17**

**District Ten Female**

**Three days before the Reapings**

* * *

Avni regretted a lot of things in her life.

At the moment, however, she regretted setting foot in this country. This place had snatched away her family, killed them, erased them forever. She never knew this would happen, neither had her family. When the rebels had overtaken the country, her family had moved to Panem. No, it wasn't because they didn't like where they lived, but it was too expensive, with really high costs of living. Panem had been pretty peaceful, surprisingly, and the Silvan family didn't see why they couldn't settle there. They had left Aryavarta before Avni was born, and had moved to Brasilia. However, they had hoped to afford a better life for her, and thus here they were.

And now, they were dead.

Avni wished she had protested against moving. She wished she had done _something_ to stop her family. They had been killed, throats slit open, right in front of her eyes. She had been forced to watch, and no amount of screaming, pleading, begging. She remembered, oh so well, how they had kicked her like a stray animal, forcing her to watch. Her six-year-old sister wasn't spared either.

_"What has she done?! Please stop! Please don't do this! Please! I'll do anything you want! Please don't kill her! I beg you!"_

_"Avni!" Bhoomi screamed, crying, as one of the Peacekeepers pulled the little girl by her hair, "AVNI!"_

_"NOOOO!"_

_Avni had fainted after that, because her name was the last thing her sister ever spoke._

It had been a week since then. As she recalled the events, as clearly as if they were happening right in front of her eyes, the girl broke down. She had nothing left now, nothing worth fighting for, nothing to live for.

She couldn't help but recall waking up in this white walled cell, the coldness bitter, but not comparing to that of the mayor's heart.

_She was on a steel bed, the alloy cool against her bare arms, and she just wanted to faint again as she remembered what had happened to her family. It was then that she noticed that there was a chair there too, a weak wooden one, and a solemn looking man was seated on it. She looked up groggily but then she realised who it was, and she tried to get up. that was when she also noticed that she was tied down to her bed with a really thick rope. She started struggling, although she knew it was no good. The man started chuckling._

_"Let me go!" Avni screamed, the rope cutting into her skin, "You ***, let me go!"_

_"What if I don't?" he asked, his voice taunting her helplessness, and despite everything, despite how much she hated herself for it, she started crying._

_"Aww, did I hurt you?"_

_"TO HELL WITH YOU!" she screamed, still struggling, still crying, still hopeless._

_"Avni, dear, please understand that we have nothing against you or your family-"_

_"YOU FREAKING KILLED THEM! IF YOU HATE US SO MUCH YOU COULD HAVE JUST DEPORTED US!"_

_"But you see, I couldn't do that. You and your family lived here... Legally. But I had to dispose of you, you know?"_

_His eyes turned serious now, and he frowned at the girl sprawled on the bed in front of him. The mayor, Barron Marshall, wasn't particularly pleased with what he was doing, nor did he really dislike immigrants as much as people perceived him to. But, just like any other human, he had priorities, and immigrants weren't there, legal or not._

_"We've been ordered by the Five to either kill immigrants or hold them captives and send them to the Capitol. I must tell you, sweetheart, that the Five would have given your family a fate much worse than I did."_

_"SHUT UP!"_

_"I have a District to take care of," Barron continued softly, pretending as if he hadn't heard Avni at all, making her even angrier than she was, "I am against the Games, Avni. I was heartbroken when they brought it back."_

_"You? Heartbroken?" Avni scoffed in disbelief. Despite her condition, she couldn't help but find his hypocrisy laughable. He killed her sis-year-old sister. A little girl, who could pose no threat to anyone in any way._

_And he had, for some sinister reason, kept her alive._

_Avni's heart filled with dread as it dawned on her that she alone, of her entire family, was alive. What did Barron want? What did he plan on doing to her?_

_Her face must have shown how she felt, because Avni's face expressed her feelings all the times when it shouldn't do it. Barron let out a tired sigh, as if he didn't want to do what he was about to do, that he was truly disgusted with himself. Avni scoffed; this man was a great actor, at least._

_"Well, honey, the Five have restarted the Games," he started, slowly and delicately, "And I don't want more of the District kids to die. Hence, I'm afraid I need you to volunteer."_

_"What?" Avni was dumbfounded. She couldn't believe she was hearing things correctly. This man killed her family, was holding her captive, because he wanted her to volunteer?! What was this stupid reasoning?! Avni's heart burned as if she had swallowed acid, her pale fists clenched so hard that her nails drew warm blood from her palms, but she said nothing. It wasn't particularly because she didn't want to; rather she found it incredibly hard to get out any words._

_"I'm sorry," Barron continued, "We were hoping to get an immigrant boy as well, but apparently, there are none around._

_"I know you're wondering why you should do my task. It's simple, really. I'll send you to the Capitol if you don't, and I don't need to tell you what they'll do with you with their no immigrant policy. Let's just say it won't be easy at all. And I might appear to be a slightly better person to you then, because at least I killed your family at once; you, instead, will die every single day, and ultimately you will beg for your own death."_

_There was a silence that followed this statement, an eerie silence that threatened to consume both of them. Avni felt numb. As she looked at Barron, she knew he was being honest to her, that the Games really were a better option for her. She watched apprehensively as he stood up._

_"Do think about what I said and then take your call."_

Avni blinked as she realised she was still in her cell. Her thoughts had been so alive, she could swear she had heard the door close just now. She shook her head weakly, and then leaned against the wall, eyes closed tightly, wanting to drive out everything from her head.

Only three more days were left...

* * *

**Hi guys! So, here's the first tribute introductions! We have District One and District Ten, and goodness, it was fun writing them! Please let me know your thoughts on these amazing people. I hope I did at least a decent job with them. If not, feel free to PM me, and I'll keep things in mind the next time. I'm a little busy right now, so I'll keep this short, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Have a great day!**

**PS: Avni's POV might be a little sluggish with formatting issues, but that's because it was really late when I wrote it. **


	8. Chapter 8

**District Eleven**

* * *

**Belladonna "Bell" Betony, 18**

**District Eleven Female**

**Two years before the Reapings**

* * *

If there was one thing Belladonna Betony did not like, it was attention seekers. They were always there, everywhere, with their ridiculously mundane stories narrated in exorbitantly heightened tension, making ordinary folks believe that the spiced up version was the real deal. Bell could see through these people though. She knew a façade when she saw one, and right now, her friend Aah was doing the same.

Bell had no idea why Aah's name was Aah, but she remembered her surprise when she had found out that her real name was, in fact, Aah itself. Due to her stupid name, she already got everyone's attention, attention that only Bell deserved. No, it wasn't that Bell was arrogant and wanted the world to revolve around her, it was just that she really was interesting. And right now, she was itching to tell her story, a story that involved a boy from her neighbourhood, that controversial boy… Everything about him was off. And the way he had behaved with Bell… it was inexcusable.

And yet, as Aah, Herman, Riya, Bell, Orchard and Blossom sat in a circle under the very cooling shade of their favourite tree, the sun turning the sky into a mysterious shade of orangish pink as it continued on its descent, none of the friends were really paying any heed to what Bell wanted to say. Well, she couldn't blame them, as she herself was engrossed now into Aah's cinematic narrative.

"And then he grabbed my bag," Aah continued, "And I shouted 'Help! Help! Let go of my bag, you creepo!' But obviously, nobody came to my aide."

"Nobody ever comes to anybody's aid," Bell said wisely, "Unless you have an aide, who can come to your aid in case you require it. but otherwise? People don't come to their own aid, let alone to the aid of a stranger who's asking for aid."

"Wait, what?" Orchard asked, confused. Bell rolled her eyes; for some reason her friends always treated her as if she had said something really confusing. She knew how hard she tried to keep thing simple for simple minds, but alas, simply nobody appreciated her simplicity."

"Coming back to the story," Aah said, and Bell frowned at her friend. She _always _cut her off! She couldn't comprehend as to why her friend was such an attention-seeker. Sometimes, Belladonna just got worried, for she was sure that someday, some person, for some instance, would hurt Aah for her attention-seeking demeanour. Yes, she was a caring girl indeed, Bell, who always thought of her friends before anyone else. The mere thought of someone thinking of hurting Aah, or any of her other friends who didn't think before speaking, and who didn't think before doing, was enough to cause Bell to have several more painful thoughts.

"So he started pulling my bag. And you know what I did? I let him get away with it!"

There was a collective gasp from the circle of humans that surrounded Aah. Bell didn't want to show any reaction to Aah's story, as it would only foster more arrogance in her friend, but even she couldn't help but gawk at the other girl; who on earth would let a robber get away with their stuff?! Bell was always certain that Aah was not right in the head, and now she shook her head disapprovingly, albeit a little upset that it was _her_ friend who acted on her stupidity.

"What happened after that?" Orchard asked, his voice a mere whisper, as if he were afraid to be overheard by some miscreant, like the robber in question.

"Well, the bag was empty," Aah smirked, "And it was rugged too. Imagine him going home only to find an empty bag that he tried so hard to rob!"

And despite herself, Bell _did_ find it funny, so funny, in fact, that she leaned back against thin air, laughing her head off, only to come crashing down on the ground below. She didn't care though; Bell hardly cared about what people thought of her, especially when her laughing was concerned. Laughing beautifully was an art, and Belladonna Betony was an artist. She was so busy laughing at the reaction of the poor thief that she forgot her own story altogether, the one featuring that horrible boy. It could be attributed to the fact that she didn't _want _to remember, for it would hurt her pride and self-esteem, and those things mattered very deeply to Belladonna.

"Dude it isn't _that _funny," Aah muttered, even as Bell continued to laugh. However, at the comment, the girl stopped, feeling rather subdued quite abruptly. This was another thing she didn't quite like about Aah; the moment Bell actually got immersed in her stories, to the point of actually enjoying them, Aah would pass snide comments that always put off Bell's mood.

"I have work to do," Bell said rather automatically, and started getting to her feet. Her mood had really been spoilt now, but she didn't want to sulk in front of her friends. They never understood her anyway and she doubted they would appreciate her rambling on about how she felt. And she didn't feel nice, so she started walking away, it being registered in her subconscious thought that not one of her friends called back to her, or even said a 'bye.'

Well, she was used to this now, and, dejectedly, she admitted this would stay like this forever.

* * *

**Basileus Paladino, 18**

**District Eleven Male**

**Two weeks before the Reapings**

* * *

Perception was of a lot of significance when making harder decisions in life, and Basileus Paladino was no exception. His perceptions were, some would say, rather odd for someone who was from a downtrodden district like Eleven, for who had ever heard of a Capitol supporter in such a place? it was, however, understandable to those select few who knew him. Basileus' father had been a victor, a very fine one at that, and had dreamt of turning Eleven into a Career district as well, and the Capitol _had_ supported it. So when the handsome and talented Kailan Paladino decided to set up a training centre for all the lovely individuals who actually wanted to have a chance of survival in the Games, his mayor wife, Mavia Shearer made sure things would go smoothly. And they were going smoothly, as far as Basileus perceived, until one day, the rebels came along and shot his father dead in front of his eyes for being a Capitol supporter, and then the mysterious Five came along too, as wicked and haughty as the rebels, after which his mother vanished from the surface of the earth as well.

And yet, Basileus blamed the second occurrence on the rebels as well, rejoicing in the fact that these mysterious people from lands known or unknown, had delivered justice to the rebels by persecuting them. Indeed, Basileus was happy about this systematic punishment bestowed on those awful people. He barely voiced out this particular sentiment though, because Riya and Onna supported that filth, much to Basil's disappointment. However, he loved his sister and best friend, and was certain that they were merely ill guided, so he tried his best to ignore their constant uplifting of the rebel ideology.

Basileus Paladino had learnt to ignore a lot of things currently.

And that was exactly what his love, Yang Chan was telling him at the moment, as they sat under a very large tree, the shade of it really welcoming against the heat. Basileus didn't mind heat much, but Yang often got blisters due to it, and he didn't want his beloved boy to go through any hardships- including blisters.

"Are you _really_ okay?" Yang asked, rather forcefully for Basil's liking, despite the boy reiterating that he was fine.

Basileus sighed; who was he trying to fool anyway? Yang? Or himself?

"Well, maybe I'm not," he replied, trying his best to keep his anger under control, but the shakiness of his voice told Yang all he needed to know.

"Basil, I know it's hard," he whispered, pulling the boy closer, wrapping his arm around him, taking him in an embrace, "But-but you'll have to move on."

And there it went again. The usual conversation.

"_How_ can I, Yang?" Basil practically screamed, attracting the attention of the passers-by, but one deathly glare from him was enough for them to hurry away. He was glad, for their sake, that they did, for he wouldn't have hesitated to punch a hole in their skulls.

"My dad's dead, my mom is missing, my sister and best friend are supporting the people who are the reason for all these mis happenings!"

"Basil-"

"THEY KILLED HIM! ON THE STREET! FOR EVERYONE TO WATCH!"

"I know it's hard honey-"

"AND THEN THEY CARRY OUT FALSE PROPAGANDA THAT THEY ARE FIGHTING _FOR_ US?!"

"They are a bunch of hypocrites. But Basil-"

"AND MY DUMB SISTER AND FRIEND BELIEVE THEM!"

And without realising it, Basil was crying. He trembling with fury, fury buried deep within the folds of his injured heart, bursting like a volcano from time to time, and it was this fury that was making him cry, cry in rage. He was vaguely aware of Yang rubbing his back, muttering sweet nothings in his ear, but in these moments, Basileus Paladino managed to ignore any external stimulus altogether. So Yang's words fell on deaf ears, as Basileus eyed the people who went about their daily lives, cursing them from the depth of his heart, for he cared for none of them. Nobody, _nobody_ had stood by him while he lost his parents. And here they were, bustling _happily_, going about their daily lives as if nothing had happened in this world at all. Somewhere, Basileus was certain that it was irrational to blame them, but he did not care about rationale anymore, he did not care about anything much lately.

He would, perhaps, not resorted to violence however. But then this one idiot wolf whistled at Yang, smirking at the boy, making obscene gestures and that did it for Basileus.

Like a graceful lion, he leapt at the man who had dared to harass his Yang, punching his on the face hard enough to break his jaw. Basil roared; all the pent up frustration bursting up, and this unfortunate soul had to bear the brunt of it. Basileus didn't know what exactly he was doing, all he knew that he was seeing red as he hit something, something that lay on the ground, and somebody was pulling him away, pulling him away with all their might, but Basileus was oblivious to it. He kicked and he kicked and he kicked, ignoring the countless people who had formed a semi-circle around him, watching, watching as he handled his prey, the fool who dared harass his love. Basileus was, in all honesty, enjoying himself. It had been too long and too hard to keep his emotions in check. The rebels…the Five…his parents… His mind echoed with the images of these people, images both vague and clear, so he was rightfully surprised when somebody pulled him hard and slapped him across the face.

He had been slapped…? Holding his smarting cheek, he glanced up at his attacker, only to see Yang looking back at him, eyes bleak. Had-had he caused him this sadness…?

"He's already unconscious, Basil," Yang whispered tearfully, glancing down at the man, his eyes shut, bleeding from his injuries, body adorned with bruises, "You could have killed him."

And Basileus Paladino, despite his twisted perception of the world, was horrified at what he had done, at what he was about to do had Yang not stopped him, and together, they carried the man to the nearest Healer.

As usual, Basileus ignored the scared stares of the people around him.

* * *

**District Three**

* * *

**Rook Karis, 16**

**District Three Male**

**Five months before the Reapings**

* * *

Memories and surroundings often played a pivotal role in shaping a human being. When Bishop Yanni, an accomplished psychologist was executed for the various heists he and the criminals he treated carried out, something broke within Rook Yanni. When Queenie Yanni, a great private detective, went missing, never to be found again, something broke within Rook Yanni. When he had to change his name to Rook Karis, something broke within Rook Yanni.

And it just made him stronger.

So strong, in fact, that he was ready for any challenge, any match, for life was nothing but a game of chess at a very grand scale. Knowledge was strength, knowledge was power and the right kind of knowledge was the difference between survival and death.

And right now, in this dark alleyway, Rook was the one in power, the one with knowledge, even as the man in front of him, the very big Delta Magnum, was cowering for some invisible and non existent cover. Maybe it was Rook's intense eyes that seemed to bore into his soul, maybe it was that this little boy had found out his dirty secret and had the nerve to hold it against him, he didn't know, but Delta was worried. He felt anxious as the boy leaned gently against the old grey wall, a very light smile on his handsome face, right hand clutching a small blade that wasn't visible to the eyes of Delta Magnum.

"What will you do about it?" Delta asked, trying to sound as if he wasn't afraid at all, and Rook admitted that he pulled it off rather well, better than most people he had seen before. However, we'll wasn't good enough to deceive the eyes of Rook Karis and the boy was highly aware of what the other man was thinking, what he planning on doing, and how miserably he was failing to hide his fear and worry. Well he needn't really fear, Rook had never meant any harm to anyone yet, and there was no reason for Delta to be an exception.

"Nothing," Rook replied simply, a slight smile on his face.

"Wh-what?"

"I mean it. I'm not going to report to the rebels that you're a spy of the Capitol."

"I'm not-"

"You _really _want to do this?" Rook asked, enjoying the power he held on this person. A part of him detested his own emotions, that of inexplicable pleasure to know he had the other person, that they were under his control, at his mercy, and there was nothing they could do about it for Rook always played his cards well. However, he ignored this particular thought, just like he had done countless times before, there was no room in his busy mind to feel pity for these people, for anyone really. They were just pawns in his game.

And he knew he needed his pawns.

"I can kill you right now!" Delta screamed, and despite himself, despite the certainty Rook felt about his words, he smiled. Rook usually played safe, but sometimes risks had to be taken. And that risk was his laid back attitude in this particular situation, his relaxed posture that he was no threat, and yet no fear in his intense eyes, a pretty smile on his pretty face, and it was this smile that was unnerving Delta, the smile that spoke of everything this boy could do to him, and yet soft enough to deceive everyone into thinking it was friendly and jolly. Perhaps, it was jolly, for Rook was thoroughly enjoying the power he held.

"I-I…" Delta stammered, his voice failing him, as the sinister boy continued smiling at him. It wasn't even a smirk, so Rook wasn't really mocking him. He was doing _nothing, _and maybe that was the reason he was terrified. If faced against an opponent that's aggressive, one could predict their move. Anticipating the actions of the meek was also rather simple. But predicting something in regards to a person who did _nothing, _that was hard.

"Delta," Rook said, sighing, meeting the man's suspicious gaze, "I have no ill intentions for you. All I ask for is help."

"Help…?"

"I'm… looking for a person. A friend, if you will. So far I've been unable to find her. I understand that you have crucial data about a lot of people in this District, and outside of it too. I just want that data."

"Why should I help you?" Delta snarled, trying to sound brave, and Rook Karis chuckled inwardly at his weak attempts.

"We're helping each other, Delta," he replied casually, "You give me the data, and I help you make contact with a person who can safely take you out of Three. I don't think that's a bad deal at all."

Oh, it wasn't a bad deal at all. Rook studied the game in front of him, the man's mind churning, coming up with various scenarios, then rejecting them then rejecting them. Rook let out a very low chuckle; Delta probably didn't know he was being read like a mere book his mind, with all its thoughts and secrets, lying bare in front of Rook Karis. The said boy himself was, despite his calm exterior, rather on edge. If one of the rebel supporters would spot them, they would be done for, and Rook would never be able to find his mother again, or rather, find _anything, _ever, including himself. He was constantly battling himself to keep his absurd paranoia at bay, and he hoped Delta couldn't see his thoughts as well as he could see his. Rook despised being vulnerable, for he loved being in control, being the one with knowledge, with power, and he knew that a person like him was always at risk of dying.

Yet, he kept up his pretence.

"Alright…" Delta said grudgingly, "I'll do it."

"Thank you friend."

And with that, Rook stepped towards the man, who stumbled back involuntarily, making Rook's heart feel light with a mild pleasure. He was right to be scared.

"Relax," the boy said, laughing softly, "I was just giving you this card."

And he did so, a simple paper card, with no fancy lettering. Delta stared at it, not quite registering the name of the boy, for his eyes were focused on the address, a rather bizarre address. Who would give their address as the letter box near the Peacekeeping station? Was the boy crazy?! Delta couldn't fathom why he would want this data, much less why he would want to have it near a Peacekeeping station, but he stayed shut.

"There's a man who'll meet you there," Rook said, "It isn't me. After you give him what I asked for, he'll tell you how to go about leaving this place."

And even as the boy turned around to walk away, muttering a casual 'thanks' with an amicable wave of hand, and disappeared from the alleyway, the man finally registered the name on the card. He could not understand why he hadn't noticed this before, but he was sweating profusely now. He had never imagined…

The card… that boy… the card was that of the notorious Spider, infamous for blackmailing criminals and making network with them, and for having the deadliest secrets in the District.

The Spider… well, he had definitely made Delta a part of his Web.

* * *

**Cat Doyle, 13**

**District Three Female**

**Three months before the Reapings**

* * *

When Martha Charter decided to pick on young Enrique, things didn't sit well with Cat Doyle. She was the protector of her people, and she couldn't un-see this. So when Martha pushed at Enrique, mocking him for his stammering, for he couldn't speak without a stutter of some kind, Martha was taken aback when a tiny hand grabbed her wrist and pushed her back rather forcefully.

Nobody had ever dared to cross Martha, for she was the big, bad wolf of the school, but Cat wasn't afraid of her, or anybody really. Bullies were cowards anyway, hiding their deep insecurities behind a veil of fake toughness and aggression. Cat had no reason to fear such people.

"Who are _you_?" Martha growled, eyeing the little girl who barely looked as if she were ten. Well, looks could be deceiving and Cat honestly benefitted from it a lot.

"It doesn't matter who I am," she replied calmly, yet her childish voice held a rage that Martha certainly didn't miss, "What matters is that you're being a horrible git."

"Oh," Martha smirked, "So _you're _going to stand up to me?"

"Yeah," Cat said, clapping twice and then quickly shaking her head. Martha laughed out at this action, throwing her head back, looking condescendingly at her, but CAT did not care. She didn't have time to care about the attitude of bullies. She wrinkled her nose and sniffed, making Martha laugh even more.

"Cat," Enrique said fearfully, "Don't m-m-mess with her, she's d-d-dangerous."

"Running away is never an option, Enrique," Cat said to her classmate, and then turned to look at the smirking Martha, her head held high.

"Well you _animal,_" Martha mocked, even as Cat clapped again rather fiercely, and shook her so head fast that it was almost a blur, "What're you going to do, eh?"

And with that, she thrust her palm forward to push her, but Cat again caught her wrist, and pushed her back instead. Enrique gasped even as Martha stumbled back and fell down rather hard. Cat sighed; she hadn't really meant to hurt Martha, for Cat didn't really believe in hurting others, neither the good nor the bad.

"Sorry," she apologised genuinely, knowing well her words were falling on deaf ears.

And she was right, as Martha started towards her like a mad bull, and just like a bull fighter, Cat jumped towards the side, narrowly avoiding her attack, and she was glad Enrique had enough sense to do the same. Martha whirled around to attack her again, but was stopped when somebody grabbed her shoulder, and even as she turned around to see who this insolent brat was, only to meet the fierce gaze of Mr Pixel, her class mentor, and she gulped quite visibly.

"Meet me in the staffroom, now," he said in a barely concealed angry whisper, and then walked away quite briskly.

Cat sighed. She didn't want Martha to get in trouble, but perhaps it would be for her own good. The older girl shook her fist at Cat and Enrique, the latter whimpering at the gesture, but the younger girl meeting her gaze steadily, making no move at all. So, as Martha Charter left the corridor, Enrique turned to Cat, his junior, and smiled at her.

"Thanks C-Cat," he said, looking into her beautiful eyes that just popped out of her cute freckled face, "B-but you s-shouldn't have d-done that. She c-could have h-hurt you."

"Thank you for caring Enrique," Cat said, wrinkling her nose again, before sniffing hard, "But you can't let people like her to get to you."

Well, it was easier said than done, and Cat was matured enough to know that. She was matured enough to know a lot of things that even adults didn't, and that included admitting to herself that, when Martha had come running towards her, she really did get scared. Fear, however, wasn't something that could stop her from her goal.

"I get m-mocked a l-lot," Enrique said sadly.

"And you can do nothing about it," Cat replied, patting his shoulder, "I get mocked a lot for my Tourette's too, as well as for my Echolalia, even though that happens less frequently, and it's okay. You're not answerable to anyone, Enrique, other than yourself, and it's not okay to take nonsense from anyone."

And she clapped again, shaking her head, and Enrique smiled at her.

"I-I'll keep that in m-mind."

"And, if you want to, you can always join our little community of misfits."

"What's th-that?"

"We're a group of people, people who don't fit into the established mould of the society, the misfits. We get together every Friday evening and get to know each other, talk about our week, our problems, and advise each other on how to handle things that a particular person may not be able to do themselves. It's quite nice, actually, and you can learn a lot and make a lot of friends too."

"That's so c-cool!" Enrique exclaimed, his face positively beaming, and Cat smiled at him.

"We have a meeting tomorrow, in that big field by that big chemical lab. You know, the one near this school?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, I hope to see you tomorrow at 5."

"I'll d-definitely be th-there!"

And with a big smile, the older child left the corridor for his classes too, and Cat smiled. Three years ago, when she used to be mocked for her Tourette's, she decided to make a community of misfits in her district, where anyone and everyone could come with their problems. She'd had autistics, non criminal sociopaths, former criminals, among many others, come together to her meeting, talking about their life and struggle, and Cat had learnt a lot over the years. She was grateful to her parents for supporting and spreading her idea, for few parents took heed of what their ten year old daughter would suggest, but she was glad they did.

And now, her community would have another member, another life that would be provided a support system, and she was honestly happy about it.

All these people… they meant the world to her. And as long as she lived, Cat Doyle would make sure nobody hurt them.

* * *

**Ah, so, it's been a long while, eh? Anyway, here's our second introduction, and I hope you like it. All these characters are a lot of fun, and so very different from each other! I hope I wrote them decently enough. If you have any input on it, or if you think something went wrong, do PM me and I'll correct it in the future. But no comments on grammar please, my phone starts using autocorrect all the time and I can't keep track of all the weird, out of context words that might have appeared. I've kept it to the minimum though. That being said, do let me know what you guys think of these four! **

**Have a great day! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Trigger warning: Kai's POV has sentiments against poor people. If you are uncomfortable reading it, let me know and I'll summarise it for you in a PM. His views are neither mine nor the submitter's.**

* * *

**District Seven**

* * *

**Ark Zagog, 12**

**District Seven Male **

**Two years before the Reapings**

* * *

The Zagog household was quiet that dark day. Little Ark held on tightly to his brother's hand, his loving brother who always looked out for him. Nathan smiled down at him, squeezing his hand tighter, for he was aware of things that made his brother afraid, things that neither he nor Ark had any control on.

The power cut simply added to the rising fear in the little boys heart. Storms were scary, and Ark wanted to divert his mind from them, which was quite a reasonable thing to wish for. Alas, there was no electricity in the entire neighbourhood, perhaps in the entire town, and the ten-year-old boy again turned to his brother, getting a glimpse of his smiling face due to the lightning, the thunder making him tremble just for a second every time it roared. He didn't want to shiver in fright, Ark disliked doing that, but he couldn't keep the fear off his childish heart, and so, he leaned closer towards Nathan, who took him in an embrace, and Ark sighed in the familiar comfort of his brother's embrace.

"Ark, calm down," Nathan said softly, holding onto the little boy, who had shut his eyes, trying to ignore the thunder, "So before this, you were telling me about, what was it? Munnies?"

"Mummies," Ark corrected him, thankful to his elder brother for diverting his attention from the loud and dangerous thunder, "Ancient people put something on dead people and wrapped them in white cloth so their bodies don't decay."

"Oh man!" Nathan exclaimed, and Ark could tell from his tone that he was genuinely surprised and that made him smile, "Really? They could do that?"

"Yep."

"How ancient are we talking?"

"A few thousand years, at least."

"Whoa!"

For a moment, the brothers remained silent, and Ark had his face buried in Nathan's chest, arms wrapped tightly around the elder boy, eyes shut as if this simple action could drive out all the unwanted noises of the world away from him. Neither spoke a word, and Ark was starting to get worried that he might have surprised his brother a little too much for his liking with his amazing knowledge.

"You sure do know a lot, Ark," Nathan whispered so softly that the younger boy wasn't even sure he heard him right, "That's just amazing. I don't think anyone here would know about mummies."

As was the case with children, their hearts swelled with pride whenever an adult would praise them. Ark was no different, and was feeling proud of his knowledge of the ancient world, he was feeling pretty good about himself, and for a moment he forgot all about the thunder, basking in the glow of his beloved brother's compliment.

And that was when he felt it.

It hadn't really come yet, and still, Ark was certain it would happen. He was so certain that he pulled away from Nathan, his wide eyes moving towards the window, and that was when he saw it, the red lightning tearing the very sky apart, tearing every fabric of it, and descending, almost in slow motion, towards their neighbour's house, and he could feel Nathan try to pry him away from the window, but he couldn't move, he couldn't move his gaze away as the house exploded up in flames, flames that were so beautiful they could be from another world, flames that leapt towards the sky almost loving, as if wanting to reach higher and higher and higher, its glow so powerful that Ark's jaw dropped open. The house, the house was barely more than a silhouette, now a part of the fire, and that was when the sky was teared open again, this time with a sound so thunderous that Ark screamed and screamed and screamed. He could hear Nathan trying to comfort him, but he kept screaming, trying to get rid of the sound from his brain, the image of the burning house from his vision. He saw, from the window, his parents going to the neighbour's house, probably to see if anyone could be saved, and Ark screamed again for them to move away from the fire, that dastardly fire, and finally Nathan was able to pull him away.

Ark hid his face into his brother's chest, wishing he could become smaller, wishing that what he had seen would never have happened, wishing he hadn't seen it. He was crying, for he was certain that his neighbours, who had been very good people, were dead, burned alive, and he didn't want to imagine how much it would have pained them in their dying moments.

"Ark, Ark, it's alright."

But it would never be alright, Ark knew that, the neighbours would never be alive again. And lightning... Ark was terrified to think of it. Those sparky lights had put a house on fire! He knew he would never see lightning the same again, and he knew he was afraid of it now, so very afraid that he trembled at the mere thought of another lightning.

And at last, came relief. Relief that it wasn't their house, relief that he was still alive, his family was still alive.

Ark Zagog cried into his brother's chest for a long time that night.

* * *

**Calista "Cali" Birchwood, 16**

**District Seven Female**

**Four months before the Reapings **

* * *

"I don't know what to say to this."

"Come on Cali! I'm sure you must have _some _reaction!"

Sitting on the worn out wooden chair of her classroom whereas the rest of her class was enjoying itself outside, Calista glanced at her friends. Freya smiled nervously, taking a look at Rowan. The said girl was holding onto a piece of artwork, a rather shoddy piece of artwork, that depicted former head Gamemaker Alejandro being executed. Cali honestly did not know what to think about it, or how she should react to such expression of feelings. True, _everyone _hated Alejandro, and everyone awaited his trial that was due in a few weeks, but a graphic depiction of him being beheaded by a guillotine? That was too much to digest.

"I think this is a little too much," Calista answered honestly. However, she quickly noticed the crestfallen face of Rowan, and that her best friend Freya was shaking her head ever so slightly. Cali bit her lower lip; she didn't like seeing people get upset, especially her friends, and so she got up from the chair and rested her hand on Rowan's shoulder.

"Hey, I understand how you feel about him. We all hate him and his predecessors for what they've done. However, we can't go around encouraging such things. We're better than them, Rowan, and we don't cherish death."

She met Freya's gaze, and to her relief, her best friend nodded approvingly. Cali was grateful to have Freya in her life. The girl let Cali handle her own things, but she was always there like a guide, and Cali appreciated her support and maturity, things that a lot of people lacked. She chided herself in her mind for thinking this way; she wasn't perfect, so what right did she have to point fingers at others? Calista was grateful that she had the sense to acknowledge that she wasn't perfect, that she was far from it, and to accept that it was okay to be imperfect. Imperfection was, after all, beautiful.

Rowan, however, wasn't in agreement with her statement.

"The fact that we've always tried to be better than them is the reason we've been suffering since so long."

Cali sighed, her almond shaped eyes lowered, staring at the dusty cemented floor. It would be vain to argue with Rowan on this point, as Calista neither wanted an argument nor did she see any way in which Rowan would agree with her and let go of her rather violent thoughts. Of course, Cali mused, Rowan was free to feel as she wanted and was entitled to her opinion, just the way she herself was. After all, according to Rowan's perspective, Calista could be the one who wasn't seeing things clearly, who was delusional in believing that even the wrong should be treated rightly, in not seeing that complacency and compassion towards enemies was not only laughable but unimaginably futile.

And so, Calista's shoulders slumped, just enough so that Freya noticed it, and she smiled at Rowan. A simple, humble smile, a smile that was enough to work like a contagious disease, making Rowan smile, and she lowered her drawing.

"Okay, I guess this got a little brutal, but my point still stands."

"Of course, it does."

"This is all very cool and all," Freya interrupted, "But I'm getting hungry and don't want to stay in this classroom for another second in our lunch hour."

"I hope they've something good for lunch," Calista said, "Although, I think we've a lot to be grateful for considering they provide lunch in the first place."

"And there she goes with the gratitude lesson," Freya muttered, earning a laugh from both the girls. Calista was easy going, but she certainly did believe there was a lot to be grateful for. There were so many things that people took for granted, whether it be a certain person always being there for them or their schools providing lunch. Nobody she knew ever pondered on the possibility that there could be a scenario where schools wouldn't provide lunch at all; all that people ever did was complain about the quality of the food, which wasn't really all that bad in Calista's opinion. They never considered that the quality could actually be bad, worse than the worst, and Calista shivered slightly. She was, indeed, quite grateful for everything she had. Loyal friends, loving family, decent education, and now a Hunger Games free Panem... What was there not to be grateful for?

And her thoughts were confirmed upon reaching the school canteen. Her friends had saved her, Freya and Rowan seats, and had already saved them the trouble of standing in a line by keeping their meals ready.

"We were wondering whether you'd show up," Aspen said, "We were about to eat your food."

"Nobody touches my food!" Freya exclaimed as she sat down beside Calista, "Although I wish it was better..."

"Come on Freya!" Calista exclaimed, "This is good!"

And it was, as far as she was concerned. The vegetable soup did look a little too watery, but schools were usually on a tight budget. The cheese and corn sandwich looked fine enough, even though it wasn't grilled, and the custard was actually delicious! That was something to be happy about, since schools usually didn't provide desserts. And that's what Calista told Freya too, who simply frowned.

"That's... A very optimistic way to look at things."

"Well, what can I say? I am a very optimistic person."

And Calista Birchwood leaned back in her chair, content with the food, content with her friends and basically content with everything she had.

There was a lot to be grateful for.

* * *

**District Nine **

* * *

**Dakota Neenah, 15**

**District Nine Female**

**Three months before the Reapings **

* * *

As the girl lay on the grass, her younger sister right beside her, she wondered for the umpteenth time what humanity was without nature. Meaningless, Dakota decided, humanity would be meaningless without nature. She held out a hand, a beautiful butterfly, its wings orange like the sky when sun would begin its descent, fluttered and settled down on it. Dakota didn't move an inch, for it would be a big blunder to scare away a butterfly as exquisite as this. Or any creature really, for where Dakota was concerned, all creatures were beautiful and exotic, all of them unique in their own special way.

"Whoa," Aiyana whispered, surprised at the ease with which Dakota had earned the trust of this beautiful wonder of nature. Trust was, after all, a virtue very few had, for it had to be earned and could be neither received in inheritance nor be bought. Humans had trust issues all the time, but animals were different, nature was different. Nature was all-giving, all-caring, and deserved to be worshipped in order to establish that spiritual connect that made one aware of oneself.

However, Dakota noticed, Aiyana's mild whisper was more than enough to startle the butterfly, and it fluttered its orange wings, flying away, probably in search of a flower as beautiful as it itself was. Dakota sighed; she had hoped it would linger a bit longer, but things that were dear didn't stay forever. The best remedy for the heart was to let go, and as she watched the very blue sky, the pearly clouds forming shapes that seemed to speak a language of their own, Dakota smiled. Her heart was as free as the butterfly, as spirited as the clouds, as calm as the oceans near District Four. She was one with nature, one with her spiritual self, one with the universe.

"I'm sorry Dakota," Aiyana muttered, "I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, relax kiddo," Dakota smiled affectionately at her sister, "Butterflies look beautiful when they're flying."

"But you had gained its trust..."

"I'm sure I can gain it again. Unless it's been broken, trust always stays."

"That's really wise Dakota!"

"Haha!" the girl said as she sat up abruptly, startling her sister. For a second Aiyana was sure that something had happened something bad, for Dakota looked as if she had been struck by something, something powerful like lightning, or something wonderful like the Ultimate Realisation.

"Sis, are you okay?"

"Aiyana..."

The thirteen-year-old sat up quickly too, her hair dishevelled, eyes wide, as she stared at her beloved sister Dakota. What was on her mind? Dakota never, _never _hesitated in doing anything.

"I... We..."

"What happened?!"

"AIYANA WE HAVEN'T VISITED THE HAUNTED HOUSE!"

Perhaps Dakota had anticipated surprise over it, disbelief too at this bizarre realisation, but she could tell that her sister had failed her expectations of getting a memorable reaction. Aiyana just stared at her sister, mouth drawn in a very straight and very thin line, eyes half way lidded, and Dakota laughed.

"Come on! It's the truth, the Haunted House has been around for _ages _and we never gave it a go!"

"You did all that drama for this?"

"Yes!"

"Goodness Dakota!"

"What?"

"You scared me!"

"Sorry Aiya," Dakota smiled apologetically, although the twinkle of her eyes said otherwise. Aiyana sighed; she knew how excited her elder sister could become sometimes, and how theatrical too, especially around her. It wasn't that she was theatrical on purpose; Dakota was free-spirited and did as she wanted to, and having fun with her sister was definitely that was included in things she wanted.

"But Dakota, we don't have the money for a trip to the Haunted House."

Dakota was certain that her sister would raise this concern. After all, they were quite poor, right at the line of poverty, and that too just because all of her family worked hard for long, tiring hours to bring in enough food. Fancy things like beautiful clothes, pretty homes or visits to Haunted House weren't something they could afford. However, Dakota had figured out a way, for she was a firm believer of the fact that money shouldn't be an obstacle in living one's life to the fullest. Hence, it would be safe to say that she was prepared.

"We're sneaking in, aren't we?" Aiyana asked, a mischievous smile gradually forming on her face, something that was reflected on Dakota's lips as well.

"Now, that's a big term to use! We'll just, you know, pay them later."

"Yeah right, 'later'."

The sisters laughed at the prospect of actually paying for an entry into the Haunted House. How many times had they actually paid for such thrills of life? Was paying even necessary when life experiences were concerned? Dakota didn't know and she did not care. At the moment, it was time to enjoy their mundane lives and probably get scared. She'd heard that these things were scary for children, for there were ghosts there, and skeletons that talked and witches that laughed their high pitched villainous laughs. She was eager to experience it, but she had to make sure their secret wouldn't be blown away, for sadly, Aiyana was not very skilled in the art of lying, and it wouldn't surprise Dakota if she blew up everything. She did find her sister's inability to lie quite endearing, truth be told, but in such circumstances, it was best if she, Dakota, was the one talking. Of course, Dakota wasn't a serial liar, for serial liars could never be at peace with themselves, but she did consider it to be a mighty weapon to be used to live life just a little more freely, a little more happily, for she didn't have money enough to attain these with honesty alone.

"If anything comes up," she said, looking sternly at her younger sister, "Let me handle it. Okay?"

"Alright," Aiyana said, looking a little offended for just a second, for she knew why Dakota would want to handle things herself. Still, she was eager for this adventure, and reached out for her sister's hand, who squeezed it gently, giving her the most radiant smile.

It was time to have some fun.

* * *

**Kai Jung, 18**

**District Nine Male **

**Three months before the Reapings**

* * *

The world was full of filth, full of greed and full of the people that were manifestations of both these ill qualities—the poor people.

They were always around, especially in a district like Nine. Some worked in factories, stealing from there. Some worked in shops and stole from there. Poor people were obsessed with making other people's wealth their own by any means, and were, in fact, biggest experts in cheating. They carried out scams, frauds and even worse crimes to loot the rich off their hard earned money, and still had the audacity to beg, to complain against the people who gave them their livelihood.

They were ungrateful beyond measure.

Currently, Kai was surrounded by such filth, as he walked the dusty roads towards his workplace. Kai did not work for survival like these low lives, he had plenty of money, he worked for simple pleasure.

_Maybe sometimes these idiots should work for pleasure too, work without complaining. _

But that was too much to expect from the kind of people he was surrounded with. They were all around him, walking as if they were dead, after a day of toiling on the fields. Kai scoffed; they deserved this pain for such a mentality, where they just wanted to steal the wealth from the deserving, the rich.

He spotted two little kids in the corner, each with a popsicle, licking it lustily. It was a remarkably hot day, Kai mused, but the fact that the kids were _smiling _while eating sent a current through his body. It felt as if somebody had punched him in the face, and obviously, Kai Jung did not take kindly to such behaviour. He was of firm belief that children were repulsive little creatures, created by the Lord of Evil to manufacture ruckus where it shouldn't even be there, these creatures packaged in cute little faces... Oh, how desperately he wanted to slap them! Their disgusting parents never even kept them at home; did they not realise how dangerous children were to civilised society?

His rage was at such an intense level that, in that moment, he walked towards them and walked from between them, pushing them hard so that they fell with a very loud and very satisfying _thud, _and the popsicles fell too, on the very dirty ground, no longer edible. Kai smirked to himself, feeling content, even as the children started crying; they were quite young after all. He heard one of them say that he had saved money to buy it, before the kids started cursing at him. Kai chuckled, their cries akin to music to his ears. Who had told those idiots to eat by the roadside? They were reaping what they sowed, nothing else. And yet, like every other low life, they were complaining that _he _was the reason for their misery, that _he _stopped them from enjoying their popsicles. Pathetic.

He walked and he walked, the scorching heat burning his skin, sweat dripping down his face like dew drops on leaves during the fresh hours of the morning. The day was really hot and Kai wished he had simply snatched those popsicles.

_What the hell! Not at all!_

And Kai was horrified. How could he even _think _of eating something that those disgusting creatures had been devouring?! Those popsicles must have their saliva on them, and Kai could _not _put something like that in his mouth. He was a dignified person, precious as the pearls at the bottom of the ocean, and such thoughts and demeanour did not suit him.

And so, Kai bought himself a sundae, enjoyed it in the air-conditioned parlour, paid the money but no tip, for should he spend his hard earned money on that, and walked out again. The sun hit him hard, but he kept walking, for he was a man strong as steel, and walking through hardships was nothing new for him.

He eventually reached his workplace, and quickly changed, for he was late and he hated unprofessionalism. Soon, he was inside the House, which would open to those miserable brats in ten minutes, and he braced himself. He was a skeleton, and his deep voice would send tremors through the spines of those nasty kids. Oh, Kai loved his job alright, for he got to treat those children the way they deserved to be treated. How they ran away from him, screaming for Mumma and Papa!

And he did it well, for as soon as the kids reached the exit of the Haunted House, Kai just appeared in their way, not doing anything, the dim lighting just showing the scary skeleton, and he laughed his child-scaring laugh, forcing them to scream and scream and _scream _in terror, sometimes being rooted to the spot, sometimes running for their lives. And that always made Kai laugh, for he derived pleasure in the horrified screams from the terrified kids.

And that's why, he found himself quite astounded when he saw that the two girls looked unfazed by his acting. They were a bit older, the elder girl around fifteen and the younger around twelve or so. However, that gave them no right to not be scared, and so he said in a low voice, making it boom because of the device he wore inside, "Leave insolent brats!"

"You are such a handsome skeleton!" the elder girl exclaimed, clapping her hands together, "We should totally go out! I know a really beautiful and flowery meadow nearby. What do you say?"

What do you say? Kai had no idea what he _could _say to that. Nobody has ever flirted with him before, because people kept their distance knowing he was a no-nonsense guy. But this girl... She asked him out while he was a skeleton...!

"Really Dakota? Right now? With a skeleton?" her sister said, exasperated.

"Why not Aiyana? He is so handsome and so smart! You, sir, are the finest skeleton in the whole of Panem!"

Kai had never been as dumbfounded in his life as now. He has always had a reply, but not that day, not for this bizarre girl. He was so perplexed that he did not even try to stop the younger girl from dragging her sister past him, for he wanted to get rid of them, of _her, _and put as much distance between them as was humanly possible.

Later that day, Kai checked himself out in his ornate mirror, still wearing his skeleton costume. He stared long and hard, and ultimately agreed with the weird girl. He was exceptionally handsome even as a skeleton. Oh, how he wanted to reward her for spotting his beauty! She was a smart girl and most likely from his own social class; for lower class people had the knack of not spotting true beauty.

Well then, maybe one he would meet her again, and probably reward her then.

* * *

**I know, it's been really long. I've been busy, and I will be busy for some more time, but I thought you would like an update. So, here we are! Four more tributes all of them different from each other. What do you think about them? Anyone you really like or dislike? I'm sorry that this chapter may be a little shoddy, but I hope this isn't too bad.**

**In another news, nominations for SYOT Awards are open! These are an Award Function organised by SYOT Alliance forum every year, so you guys should check it out and nominate your favourites! Also, it'll be really cool if you join the forum too! :D**

**Have a great day! **


	10. Chapter 10

**District Four**

* * *

**Cruxia Marshall, 18**

**District Four Female**

**One month six days before the Reapings**

* * *

There were a lot of annoyances in life, but Cruxia couldn't quite decide which one was the worst.

Currently though, she was irritated that a fellow trainee had simply not looked at her when she greeted her with a jolly 'Hello!'. It wasn't as if Tritonia mattered to Cruxia more than any other random person, but she despised it when people didn't show enough etiquette.

_Relax! She was talking to her friend and probably didn't even notice._

_That doesn't mean she can be such an ill-mannered idiot!_

However, despite the constant monologue in her head, she knew it would not do to behave in an improper manner. And so, as she walked towards her locker, she greeted the familiar faces, and was glad to see that they had enough manners to greet back.

As she started packing her stuff so that she could go back home, she heard the other girls talking, talking about the Games. Cruxia sighed; it was true that she was happy about this new development too, happy that the Games were back and she could finally do what she had trained for her entire life. And yet…

"Do you think they're going to change any process?" one of the girls wondered.

"You know, it'll be cool if they have an interview before the chariot rides as well!" Marcella replied.

"Indeed! Two interviews will, one before the parade and one after the training would really help us weigh the tributes."

"What do you think, Crux?" Marcella asked.

The chosen volunteer turned towards the group of seventeen-year-olds, all of them eager in anticipation as to how the Games would be and how they would be required to prepare for next year. To be honest, Cruxia didn't know whether she should tell them how she was feeling about the 'Five' taking over and re-introducing these Games. She had heard enough rumours, enough stories. These people were, after all, foreigners. What would they understand about the Capitol culture, the Games culture, the Career culture? She was certainly glad that they re-instated the Games. But did she have high expectations from them to produce good quality Games? Heck, no.

However, the girl didn't voice any of these thoughts. She smiled lightly and nodded, continuing to close her locker.

"I think two interviews will be a little too much, but the Outliers can benefit from them. Maybe."

"Oh, they can use all the benefit that they can get!" Marcella said matter-of-factly, "I'm just so happy the Games are back, you know? And we're all so proud of you for being selected."

"Well, thank you!"

And amongst all the chatter, she took her bag and walked out onto the road. The streets in Four were quite clean, and Cruxia had seen so many buildings being developed in the past few years. Earlier there used to be patches of land everywhere, young children playing in them. Now only tall buildings there, looking down on everyone and everything, and Cruxia knew she did not like how they seemed to loom over her, as if trying to mock her. She ignored them, as usual, and she had trained enough today to keep her rage under control. She wished for a moment that she could have a mini-academy at her homes itself, but that would be unreasonable. Cruxia loved to train, not only because of the Games, but also because they helped her relax, and she certainly appreciated a relaxed mind.

She was probably thinking about the Games, or maybe something else, she did not know, when she bumped against someone. As she was strong, she wasn't pushed back much, but the other person fell on their back with a soft _thud_.

"I'm sorry," Cruxia said as she helped the little boy up. He really was very young, around six or seven, and from the looks of it, looked as if he hadn't eaten in days. He looked terrified to see her, and Cruxia wondered why.

"Hey," she said softly, smiling at him, "What's your name?"

"A-Amphy," he said rather shakily, and Cruxia frowned for just a second.

"Amphy, where do you live?"

The boy shook his head rather violently at that, and Cruxia was shocked to see that he was about to cry. She had no idea how to handle emotional people, especially children, and she looked around for help to calm the kid down. Seeing that nobody else was there, and Amphy really was pretty close to burst into tears, she decided to offer him what he seemed to need the most right now.

"Hey, hey Amphy, don't cry," she said, but it turned out to be more authoritative than she had hoped, and now the boy looked positively terrified. For a second, Cruxia wondered why he had not run away yet. He obviously looked scared, especially of her, and any other child would have tried to run in such a situation. She shook her head slightly; now wasn't the time to ponder on that. Now was the time to help the child, for she did not have it in her to just abandon a hungry, probably starved, kid.

"Do you want to eat something?"

At those magical words, little Amphy looked at her with his wide brown eyes, cautious, and Cruxia told herself to be patient. She wanted to help, and frightening the child would not achieve that.

"Okay."

The response was meek, and barely audible, but it was enough for the Career. She smiled warmly at the boy, and asked him to follow her to the bakery. She was already late that day, and was exhausted after hours of training, but she figured her rest could wait for a bit. At least for as long as it would take to buy some warm, freshly baked bread for poor Amphy.

* * *

**Nereus Naga, 18**

**District Four Male**

**Sixteen Days before the Reapings**

* * *

"Hey kid, your posture isn't correct. You need to relax a bit. Here like this."

And saying that, Nereus showed the twelve-year-old trainee how to stand correctly while wielding a trident, the grip that had to be maintained. Nereus was, after all, an expert on tridents, the classic weapon of District Four.

"Thank you, Nereus!" the little boy, Vhail said, smiling toothily at the big Career, who grinned back in return.

If there was one thing that Nereus Naga enjoyed, it was helping children, especially the young trainees at his family's training academy, those fresh minds, and guiding them into channelizing their raw energy towards the goal. Nereus liked to help kids train on a daily basis, sometimes with their stance, sometimes on how to use a weapon correctly, or sometimes simply motivating them to work harder. After all, now that his father was dead, and his step father was in jail, Nereus had to look after the Academy by himself. Yes, he could ask Nerida for help, but she was busy with their family hotel. Besides, she really had no desire to be in the Games, and with the entrepreneurial mind that she possessed, handling the hotel would be better for her.

Nereus was not aware of the thoughts that occupied his restless mind. He could vaguely grab that Vhail had, behind his back, whispered to another boy from his class 'Naga can't nada!' probably to mock him. Nereus could not fathom why people mocked him behind his back after he helped them, or why they just didn't refuse his help in the first place if they didn't require it. However, he knew being angry wasn't the solution, it never was, and so he ignored the younger trainees and started walking towards a group of older boys.

He was in absolutely no mood to interact with them either, so he simply walked past them towards the water cooler. In this heat, this scorching heat, some cold water was probably what he needed.

_What you need is a reality check that nobody loves you._

Now, that was a bit harsh, he told himself, even as the water started overflowing the cup, cascading down the hand that held it, and Nereus quickly turned off the water. Holding the wet cup, he looked into the water, calm and collected, so unlike him.

He had really been wanting to drink it, but his heart was hammering with rage, rage at how people treated him, and instead he poured the cup of cold water on his head, slowly and deliberately, as if each droplet of water was helping him clear his head just a little bit. He didn't realise when he had poured the second cup on himself as well, or when he threw away the disposable cup. He was aware, however, of the looks he was getting, from trainees and trainers alike, and thus he retreated into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him rather forcefully.

His father was dead, his step-father, whom he knew was innocent, was behind bars for a crime he didn't even commit. Nereus and Nerida had to fend for themselves, and he sometimes worried that he would lose his twin too. She always tried to support him, to uplift his moods and to encourage him that he would be the best tribute for Four, that post winning, he could prove their step-father Sunil's innocence. Nereus didn't know who poisoned his already ailing father all those years ago, and the fact that the poison vial was found with Sunil did not manage o budge him from his belief that the man was innocent. Sure, the evidence was against him, but evidences could be wrong too. Probably, there was a need for a deeper investigation. Probably the murderer was someone he knew. Heck, probably Sunil _was_ the killer, and he was breaking his head over nothing. Nereus did not have answers, and sometimes he felt too exhausted to keep looking for them, like right now. those children were mocking him again, nobody appreciating his kindness. No, he didn't believe that he was doing some sort of charity, but he did expect people to at least treat him with somewhat respect. Instead, all they did was mock him.

He could not blame them though, for that would be utterly wrong. People mocked those who deserved it, and after Nereus had misused his power as the interim head of the academy to choose himself as the volunteer, all the backlash was to be expected.

No, Nereus was not someone who looked forward to killing other children; but it was a necessary evil. He didn't know how else he could prove Sunil's innocence, how else he could buy him some time, some much needed time.

Letting out a slow, tired sigh, Nereus went into his shower stall, and shut the door much more slowly and delicately than last time. He just stood there for a minute, trying to make sense of why he was here in the first place, and he punched the wall exactly once. He didn't know why he did that, but the mere action had immediate healing effect on his sour mood and enraged heart, and soon he was feeling much better as the cold water from the shower fell on his tanned body, jolting him awake, giving him the freshness and clarity of thought that he was desperate for.

He couldn't let people's opinion of him sway him from his path to prove Sunil's innocence. People could talk all they wanted to talk. His sister was there for him, and she believed in him. After all, it was Nerida's idea that he should volunteer and win and get Sunil out. She had been quite persistent about it, and did not let any doubt come in his mind.

Nereus was happy that, even if he lost, their family had a lot of estate for Nerida to live her life comfortably. She would inherit the Academy and the hotel as well as the private school, and since their father had left them both and Sunil a great fortune, Nerida would never have to struggle.

As the water trickled down, Nereus pondered for a while on the fact that his death and Sunil's imprisonment would really benefit Nerida financially. Well, if the worst happened, he hoped she could lead a happy life.

Now that his head was just a bit cooler, he turned off the shower and started getting ready to go back and train, proving everyone as to why he deserved to be the volunteer.

* * *

**District Six**

* * *

**Akira Tuktuk, 16**

**District Six Female**

**Nine Days before the Reapings**

* * *

There were three things Akira loved: cash, jewellery and cosmetics.

Currently, she seemed to have very little of all the three. The knee-length dress that she wore, with a satin belt around the waist that had a hidden pocket, only had enough cash for her to buy food for the next week. And while Akira Tuktuk appreciated that she still had more money than most people her age, it wasn't enough.

Akira craved for some hard cash, the crisp notes feeling fresh at her touch, and if she could, she would jump on a bed of crisp notes the whole day, eat snacks in them, sleep in them, shower in them, and most importantly, roll in them. She adored the aroma of freshly printed notes, and what could she say?

People like her were given a name. A rather derogatory term called 'gold-digger' but Akira disagreed. When people worked hard to live their dreams, they were deemed exemplary. When _she_ did whatever she could to live her dreams, she was termed greedy. Well, none of her partners really minded giving her expensive gifts, and none of them particularly hated her when she left. Akira believed that it was a win-win situation in every possible way.

Recently, however, she wasn't much interested in doing any of this. Instead, she found tricking people more intriguing and exciting, and at that very moment of time, with a rather blue scarf wrapped around her head to fight the intense heat, she was keeping an eye on two boys that she could not only tell apart, but also got confused when they changed places. They wore the same green T-shirt, the same khaki shorts, and had the same alertness in their eyes. They were certainly twins, or probably a hallucination, for nobody could resemble another person to such an extent. It was terrifying to Akira, for he found identical twins terrifying, but she kept watch.

Apparently, they were keeping watch too. Why else would two children be found outside a run-down warehouse, so alert, so cautious, as if ready to spring in action in the likeness of a feline. Akira frowned; something fishy was certainly going on, probably something illegal too, and for a second she couldn't help but feel bad about the boys. They were what? Thirteen? Fourteen? And yet here they were, doing things they probably shouldn't, and maybe, just maybe, staying with the wrong company too.

But who was she to judge, especially from a distance? All she knew that if the warehouse needed two innocent looking twin boys to guard it, there was probably a large deal going on in there, a deal concerning fresh, crispy notes, and Akira could feel her face going red. There was probably a lot of money being traded in at that very moment in the warehouse right in front of her pretty eyes, and yet she was just…standing here, doing absolutely nothing.

Pathetic.

She hid behind the empty garbage bin, watching, using her pretty scarf to cover her nose from the daunting stench. A single man emerged from the warehouse, and handed a bundle to one of the twins, a bundle of cash…

Akira's mouth was getting wet now, her eyes bulging ever so slightly, as her young mind began imagining joyous scenes with the object that she was so passionate for, the one she desired the most. Looking at the size of the package, there was enough money in there to buy lavish food for a whole month, or even buy some jewellery and Capitol-made cosmetics too. Her eyes were twinkling now, much like the stars that would appear in the night sky in a few hours, and she trembled with excitement. She just had to figure out a way to get that bundle, and then she would be golden.

She watched as the boy started walking away, away from his twin, and she was quite glad about it. had those two mirror-images walked together, she would have been utterly perplexed as to who to target, and Akira did not like being confused. Yes, it was true that she was usually confused anyway, like right now on why she was doing all this in the first place, but she didn't like it. And… why was she doing it? Jewellery, right. She sometimes forgot what exactly she would be aiming for, but one good pinch on the arm was enough to wake her up. And so, she followed the boy from afar, having noticed that he had stuffed the bundle casually in his pocket, as if he wasn't carrying a fortune with him. she also noticed that he was very good with simply blending in with the crowds, making himself so unnoticeable that Akira actually missed him for a while.

_Oh no! You have to find him!_

And she had to! He was carrying her precious money with himself! She couldn't afford to lose him! Fortunately for her, she spotted him again, walking down the main road that was just bustling with all kinds of people, most of them returning home after a long day of work. Right, the roads were busy, and this was the time to seize the opportunity.

"ARDEN!" she cried out the first random name that came to her, and the boy stopped for just a second. Well, she hadn't really expected it to work, so this was great! She pushed through the crowds and hugged him tightly, probably making it too difficult for him to breathe, and sobbed in his ears.

"Oh Arden, where did you go?! Why did you leave me?!"

"Excuse me?!" the boy exclaimed, and tried to push her off, but she was just holding him so tightly that he ended up choking himself.

"I know we haven't seen much of each other, but I'm your sister! How can you just leave me?! Please come home!"

"Let me GO!" the boy yelled out, and stomped on her foot. Akira let go of him with a yelp, her eyes hurt as she looked at him. And then they just looked confused.

"Wait you're not Arden," she said, and then giggled nervously, "I'm so sorry, I thought you were my brother."

"No, you foolish girl," he retorted, clearly annoyed, "And you stink of trash."

With that, he walked away, looking quite dishevelled and Akira couldn't help but smirk. She might be stinking and looking like an idiot, but the idiot had managed to bag the bundle of notes.

And that was really all that she needed.

* * *

**Aron Rail, 14**

**District Six Male**

**Nine Days before the Reapings**

* * *

A lot of bad things had happened to Aron Rail in his life time, but being tricked by a girl in a polka dot dress and a broad satin belt and a blue scarf was not one of them. Well, at least not until now.

He couldn't believe that he had fallen for this stupid trick so easily. He who was always alert, he who was known for his resourcefulness, he who would watch out for Peacekeepers when drug dealers traded in empty, deserted places, he who literally always hanged around criminals.

He had fallen for a petty trick of being hugged and then robbed.

His twin, Eron, was panicking right now. That bundle of cash had to be delivered to the leader of the drug-dealing gang by tomorrow morning, and the Iron Rails, as they were called by the drug ring, could not see any way to retrieve the cash. It was not a lot of cash, but it was the interest that their client had paid, and their boss was all about collecting interests for his services.

Aron wanted to destroy that stinky girl, the one who had humiliated him, the one who made a mockery of him, the one who had landed him in such a deep trouble. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look at the boy who was a mirror image of himself, and right now eve their expressions were same, that of fear and concern.

"Don't worry," Eron said rather half-heartedly, "We'll find her."

"We'll have to," Aron replied nonchalantly, "And if she's smart, she'd have changed her entire getup by now."

Eron had probably not considered this scenario at all, that their girl might not look like their girl even in the slightest, and he looked even more concerned than before, so much so that Aron was regretting having said anything at all, for worry was contagious, and it had the property of numbing all other mind functions. So, he downed a glass of icy water as if his entire life depended on it, eyes shut, as he tried to remember something about her, anything, that could help him find her.

However, just like it often happened in times of stress, his mind was not giving him the results he desired. He couldn't remember anything other than the dress, that stupid, expensive dress…

And his eyes shot open at that. The dress! It had been _really_ expensive; he could tell that now that he was thinking about it. And it had a satin belt… as far as he knew, ordinary people in his District could not afford something fancy like satin. Also, had she been rich, she would not have robbed him the way that she did, not disgraced him this way, and with an abrupt jolt, Aron grabbed his brother's shoulders.

"Parker's Avenue," he muttered.

"That's a fancy place."

"She's a fancy customer."

And with that, the two brothers nodded at each other, determined to find the girl and take back what was theirs.

* * *

It was evening by the time they arrived at Parker's Avenue. The boutiques were bustling with rich brats who were trying out designer clothes, the streets lined with shops that Aron saw no use of. Who here in Six could actually afford to buy gold jewellery? And yet, the jewellers were everywhere, along with sellers of fancy handbags and other unnecessary accessories. There was also a salon there, a salon_, _and Aron had never found anything more incredulous. The fact that beautiful girls walked out of there with shin and silky hair just made him cringe. Who were these people who could pay so much for something like shining their hair? What kind of service was this? He and Eron used to lived on the streets; he wondered whether he could get his hair styled one day, whether he would have that kind of money to waste.

It was by the salon that he saw her, and when he saw her, he wanted to roar in rage. Not because he was particularly angrier than before, but the fact that she had not even changed her outfit and he had still fallen for her ridiculous trick was making him furious. She was so predictable! Her clothing, her style, everything just revealed so much about her, and here she was, having spent his money at the salon, for her hair were curly and silky too, and he wanted to punch her in the face.

He notified Eron that she was the one, the one they had been looking for, and the twins stealthily followed her onto a deserted road, a road that had half of the street lights not working.

If she was as dumb as she looked, not having changed her outfit and everything, he was sure she would fall for his trap. Why not just throw her own act on her? He could already tell the money was in the satin belt, for there was nowhere else she could carry it as she didn't have a purse or pockets, and he signalled to Eron. The lighting was rather dim, and it was highly likely that she wouldn't be able to see their faces.

Eron walked up to her, who was humming a soft melody, and whistled lowly. The girl stopped, and turned around slowly, looking scared. After all, it was a rather deserted street, and Aron had hidden himself in the shadows well.

"Hey sweetheart," Eron said, making his voice deeper, and Aron could feel that his brother was internally cringing just the way he was, "Do you want me to walk you home?"

"I can manage," she replied, trying to keep her voice brave, but Aron could feel the fear in it.

"I think not. You're rich, and I think you'd like to share some of your wealth with me," Eron smirked, and started walking towards her purposefully. It was a line from a super flop film, but it appeared to be working quite efficiently. She took a step back, and Aron could see that she was really scared now, shivering even, and he knew that he needed to act now, to be the hero for the princess, so he ran towards his brother, and shoved him hard, punching him in the face. It was a staged punch, but looked real enough, and Eron 'ran' away from there, shouting about how he would get revenge.

"Are you okay?" Aron asked, voice laced with concern, standing in a way that she couldn't see his face.

"Yes, yes I am. Thank you!" she said, sounding so grateful to her hero who saved her money, and probably her life, and she threw her arms around him. He inhaled at that, and didn't really like it, but soon his arms were around her too. She was sobbing again, but he could tell it was real this time. He patted her gently on the shoulder, and walked her over to the nearest busy street.

"By the way, I am Akira. And you are?"

But by the time she had thought of introducing herself, Aron had disappeared, reunited with his brother, and counting the cash that he had retrieved. His bundle had been untouched, and he had managed to get a few bucks extra off of her too. The twins smirked at each other, knowing they would sleep well that night.

And it didn't hurt to have some extra cash too.

* * *

**Hi everyone! I'm back with a new chapter, and it hasn't even been a month. XD Anyway, do let me know your thoughts on this chapter. It was really fun to write! Let me know who you liked the best this chapter! I also apologise if my writing is a little off here. It was written in quite a hurry. I am a little unsure of how I've written the tributes here, so if it's way too off, do send me a PM and I'll try to correct it from the next chapter.**

**Also, the voting for the Annual SYOT Awards is open now, so please do go and vote for your favourites!**

**Have a great day!**


	11. Chapter 11

**District Five**

* * *

**Nell "Tink" Tinker, 12**

**District Five Female**

**Five months fourteen days before the Reapings**

* * *

Whenever Tink saw it, she couldn't resist it.

There was an inexplicable joy in having fun, and not conforming to other people's ideas of fun. there were people who would wring their noses in distaste at her behaviour, and some who would advise her against it, but Tink did not really care what they thought. And so, whenever she saw it, she did what she felt the urge to do.

Presently, that was what she was doing, jumping into every single puddle she could see on the street, the water splashing out high, dirtying her clothes and sprinkling on the road rather lovingly.

"Woohoo!" she exclaimed, even as Isaiah jumped into another puddle beside her, the water rising and hitting her legs. Tink didn't mind though; one could say she enjoyed getting dirty by puddles. Maybe not enjoy, but it was worth it. Yes, that's what Tink would say. It was worth it.

"Mine went higher," Tink said proudly.

"No, _mine_ went higher!" Isaiah retaliated.

"Mine did!"

"Mine did!"

And as the two started bickering, Tink couldn't help but admire how adorable Isaiah when arguing, how his brown eyes twinkled, and without meaning too, the girl was blushing. She didn't like what was happening, and things were getting really weird right about now. Isaiah seemed to not notice what was happening, and continued arguing, even as Tink held her ground. It wasn't until someone cupped the puddle water in a tin can they'd found by the road and thrown at them that they stopped, turning in unison to glare at their friend Axel, who smirked.

"Ah, you've been in and out of puddles," Caleb laughed, and Tink's exasperation turned into a loud groan as everyone face-palmed, Axel's insolence forgotten already.

"Dude," Tink said, "That was bad."

"Very bad," Isaiah agreed.

"Very, _very _bad," Axel added, nodding wisely.

"The baddest thing ever," Otto remarked.

"You obviously mean the worst?" Axel muttered.

"Nope. The _baddest _pun ever."

"What?! It was good!" Caleb remarked defensively.

"No bro," Tink shook her head, "You _really_ need to work on your puns."

"Yeah, or everyone will treat you as if you're _puny,_" Isaiah muttered, but was met by the poker faces of his friends, and he laughed sheepishly when he saw that even Caleb looked at him that way.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"I take my words back," Otto muttered, "_This_ was the baddest pun."

"It was freaking genius, okay?"

And for some reason, Tink believed him. It _had_ been a good joke. Sure, it was a little… different, but she could say she enjoyed it. So, she smiled at Isaiah and nodded, turning towards her friends.

"Yep, that was a genius pun on the word pun! Making bad puns will make you puny!" she said, and laughed lightly, almost jumping when Isaiah slapped her on the back, like he did with all his 'bros'. Tink could feel a sense of disappointment creeping up her spine. She had always had only boy friends, and now it seemed as if Isaiah had forgotten that she was a girl, a girl who really, _really_ liked him…

"Anyway guys, I think we should all leave for home now," Otto said, his face giving away how much he did not want to do that.

Tink looked up at the sky, the dark clouds floating slowly, as if trying to keep a watch over her and her friends. The sky was somewhat grey too, and Tink wished it would rain. She liked playing in the rain with her friends, and she couldn't deny that Isaiah looked really cute when that happened. She sighed to herself, and was only snapped out of her thoughts when Axel brought his fist forward. Smirking, Tink gave him a fist-bump, and clasped hands with her other bros and Isaiah, and then started walking down the wet road, looking up again to see if it would really rain again. it didn't seem so for the time being, despite the greyness of the vast sky, but Tink enjoyed the coolness of the winds on her muddy body. She chuckled to herself, running her hands through her really short hair, thinking how her mother would yell at her for coming home so dirty. Her mother didn't mind Tink being such a tomboy, but she didn't like it when her daughter returned home drenched in mud or dirt or some other weird and gross substances.

Hence, Tink wasn't surprised when her mother didn't allow her to step inside the house.

"You're dripping with mud! I just cleaned everything!"

"_Mum!"_

"No Nell!"

"But I need to enter the house to clean up!"

And with that, Tink gave her the most dazzling smile that she could with a face as muddy as hers, making her groan.

"No."

"Come on mum, it's just mud!" she argued loudly, crossing her arms across her chest, lifting her head, making her mother raise her brows and roll her eyes, and shutting the door on her face.

"Hey! No fair, let me in!" Tink cried out, banging her small fists on the door in quite a rhythmic manner, and soon she was doing it not because she wanted to get in, but because she was enjoying the tune. It was a good tune, and Tink could see herself as a musician, which made her chuckle again. Hence, the girl was quite disappointed when the door opened, and her mother started pouring water on her from an old, wooden bucket.

"What on earth is this!" Tink cried out, as the water slid down her face and shoulders and back, carrying all the mud with it. Once her mother was done, she looked quite satisfied at how clean her child was, and threw her a towel to dry herself and come inside and clean up again.

"There's no need for that now," Tink grumbled, drenching and shivering because of the cool winds. Sighing, she quickly rubbed herself with the worn out towel, wondering how could she possibly prevent her clothes from dripping, and that's what she asked aloud.

Her mother shrugged, smiling, as Tink walked inside with a grumpy face, which turned even grumpier as her mother pushed her gently towards the bathroom to 'properly clean up' even as she grumbled, quite loudly, about how this whole cleanliness thing was a farce. It was when she had closed the bathroom door that she realised that her lower abdomen was paining, so were her legs. It took her a second to understand what was happening, for this had happened to her only once before, the previous month, and she groaned in exasperation. Why again?! What had she done to deserve this?!

"Aargh!" she exclaimed, still haven't really gotten used to her monthly cycles, for those were pure _torture_, and she started looking in the small cabinet for something she could use. Sanitary products were quite expensive, and Tink was reluctant to use them, but she had to right about now. She was glad that she found out before her clothes got soiled, and envied the boys because they didn't have this issue.

As Tink dealt with the problem at hand, she wondered for the umpteenth time whether she should change her behaviour and be more 'girly' now that she was growing up. She honestly didn't want to, she just couldn't see herself doing that kind of stuff, but she noticed that the boys were getting awkward around her, not always but sometimes, and that Isaiah might not notice her at all because she was such a 'bro' to all her friends. Her mother insisted that she shouldn't change herself at all if she didn't want to, and it was okay for a girl to be a tomboy and have such feelings, but she couldn't but wonder again and again.

For now, though, she got changed her clothes, holding her stomach tightly for she wasn't used to the pain, and crawled into her bed, wanting to just lie down till the pain subsided.

Ugh! And to think this would continue for _decades_ to come!

* * *

**Dekker Mattson, 17**

**District Five Male**

**Reaping Day**

* * *

Dekker Mattson was enraged.

There had been one year, one year where they had all felt as if they were finally safe, finally free. The Games had been abolished, and everything was going back to how they should be. Dekker had never known what it was like without the Games, but it had felt amazing, a dreamy bliss, when he had not stood in the line to be Reaped, fretting over his friend and brother, hoping they wouldn't be Reaped.

And now, they had returned, the Games, and Dekker couldn't help but feel cheated. They were being governed by invaders, who had restarted something brutal like the Games for absolutely no reason. Dekker did not know who the Five were, nor did he care, but he was feeling agitated. It never once crossed his mind to fear for himself; rather, his mind was on Declan, who was only thirteen, so this was his first Reapings. Yes, he was worried about his friend Dash, and his love Naomi as well, his older siblings safe from the Reapings, but it had never crossed his mind to prepare Declan for the Reapings, not when they had been cancelled, and when he did start preparing him, he couldn't help but feel he was too late.

At the moment, however, seventeen-year-old Dekker Mattson felt exhausted. The line was long, and the potential tributes were moving rather slowly to get their fingers pricked and blood samples taken. He had never thought he'd have to do this again in his lifetime, but here he was, standing in the line in this scorching heat, sweat dripping from the back of his neck, his clothes sticking to his strong body, the dust trying to get into his eyes and mosquitoes just buzzing everywhere, their sound adding to Dekker's woes. He snapped at his ear, determined to get the pest away, but soon realised that the mosquitoes weren't really near _him. _Ultimately, he came to a decision that mosquitoes were indeed not significant enough to risk hurting his ear, and so he royally ignored the buzz, even as it increased.

The line was moving ever so slowly, at a pace quieter than a snail's, for Dekker found the two comparable, and by the time his turn came, his legs were already aching, stiff from standing at a single position for so long. It was when he reached the counter did he realise why it was taking so long.

Unlike the Capitol, that only pricked fingers for biometry, the Five forced a lot of things on the children. Firstly, there was an injection to draw out blood samples. Then their finger prints were taken, and Dekker was positively annoyed by the time he was handed something like a box with large glasses on one end and small ones on the other, and was told to wear it. He recalled it was like something called binoculars, a picture he had seen in a book somewhere, but these were no binoculars, for nothing appeared larger than it should have. Soon, it was yanked off of him, and he found out those were eye scanners. Lastly, they took his toe prints as well, and Dekker could not fathom as to _why_ anyone would do that. Hence, when he was allowed to go, he felt just a little overwhelmed by all the events, and thus it took him a moment to find the line of seventeen-year-olds.

Dekker caught the eye of his brother, Declan, and waved at him reassuringly. Declan looked quite nervous, and rightfully so; even the most fearless Dekker was afraid for him. He hoped that his brother wouldn't be picked, for he hadn't been 'taught' by their eldest brother, Harley. Dekker recalled how, a lot many years ago, Harley had pushed him to jump over the railway tracks until he covered the gap, and how he had instilled a lot of skills in him that kept him fit. Declan, however, was not fortunate enough to learn from Harley due to their father's disapproval of these method.

"Attention citizens," a voice boomed, and Dekker looked up to see, on the rather simple stage, a tall man of a calm disposition, a man in a simple black suit instead of the eccentric costumes that the Capitolites wore. He was solemn, a no-nonsense man, and his voice was commanding enough to get the attention of all the people present. Dekker also noticed that he had around ten Peacekeepers surrounding him on the stage, holding up sleek short pipes that must have been guns of some higher technology. The man's accent was different, somewhat more… regal.

He wasted no time in Treaty of Treason, or any counterpart of similar nature, and simply walked over to the two bowls. He picked a slip from both of them and read the first name, the name of the girl, and Dekker was glad that it was a Nell Tinker and not Naomi. Sure, he was sorry for the miserable twelve-year-old girl, who was frozen on the spot for a good while, and didn't move until she saw the Peacekeepers approaching. She ran hard and fast and got onto the stage, ready to loudly decline shaking hands with the escort, whom Dekker realised hadn't truly introduced himself, but he didn't ask her anything. Rather, he simply read the second name.

"Dekker Mattson. Dekker, please come on the stage."

Dekker Mattson… surely it had to be some other Dekker Mattson?! The seventeen-year-old boy stayed rooted to his spot, eyes wide, staring at this man, unable to really comprehend what was happening. Declan and Dash were safe… because he _wasn't._ Dekker wasn't particularly afraid, but he was certainly shocked, and he looked around to see if it really was him. However, he noticed that nobody else was moving, and soon his legs were carrying him forward quite involuntarily. How could this be happening? He was Reaped the year the Games were reinstated? Dekker didn't know how to feel about the situation, for it just wasn't dawning on him completely.

_I am Reaped. I am _Reaped.

That was something hard to digest.

One moment he had curled his fists into balls, feeling angry and upset and disgusted simultaneously, along with being just a little bit scared, although he wouldn't admit that, and the next moment he was standing next to Nell, looking at the massive crowd of District Five, the masses completely silent. They felt just like him, as if it was a nightmare, a living nightmare…

"District Five, your tributes: NELL TINKER AND DEKKER MATTSON!"

And as expected, there was no applause.

* * *

**District Twelve**

* * *

**Lyanna Winters, 18**

**District Twelve Female**

**Three Weeks before the Reapings**

* * *

Lyanna Winters looked on stoically, the silence welcoming after the incoherent and unintelligible shouting she had been putting up with.

She was not somebody who really put up with nonsense, but the shouting had been so prolonged that she had simply walked away, muttering just audibly enough that she'd come back the next day. The shouting wasn't because of some significant issue, at least it shouldn't be in this day and age, but her co-workers at the mines found some excuse or the other to shout about the few women who worked there, and especially her. Lyanna was one of the three women who actually worked as a miner, a task her co-workers thought was only for men, and she didn't really see why. She did as well as they did. Not better not worse. Well, she did not care about their opinions; she was there to win bread for her family.

Right now, though, she was in a clearing in the forest. Ever since the rebellion, the fences around the districts had been removed, replaced by walls that were there to protect citizens from dangers like wild animals. Lyanna found the irony amusing. Humans killed many more animals than animals killed humans.

The tree was thick and dense, providing shade during this time of the day. The miners had been left off earlier than usual, and Lyanna decided that she needed to be somewhere quiet for a while before heading home. So, she sat down on the ground, the soil not bothering her at all, after clearing away some twigs and leaves that had descended from the tree that she was seeking shelter under. She leaned back against it, eyes shut, thinking. She pondered on Caldwell and Sasha, her little siblings, those twins that made her smile even in the toughest of times. Their school fess had been hiked, and Lyanna wondered how she was supposed to pay for it. During the Capitol reign, education had been free, at least in government schools. When the rebels won, they charged a meagre fee to sustain the education system. And now the Five had hiked it by almost fifty percent, a ridiculous rise in the fee, which was bothering Lyanna. Her siblings were her responsibility, and she couldn't afford to have them drop out of school. However, taking into account the money she made, she couldn't really afford to send them to school either.

It was a big problem, and there was no simple solution to it, as her father, Ashburn, had broken his hip and couldn't win. Well, maybe if her mother hadn't left, they might have had the money to support her siblings' education. Lyanna recalled, quite vividly as if it were happening in front of her own teal eyes, how her mother had simply walked away, but not before telling her that one day she would die in the Games. She had walked away, not because she was helpless, not because she loved someone else, but because she loved no human, and the sole object worthy of her affections was money, surplus money, money that could have funded their education and helped them live a live of comfort, possibly happiness even.

Lyanna would have found incapability a reason enough to forgive her, but she had been selfish. Which mother walked away from her family because the said family didn't have enough money? Which mother told her daughter that she'd die in the Games? What kind of person did that? Lyanna couldn't bring herself to forgive her however much she tried. Whenever she thought of her, her blood started boiling in the likeness of the water in a kettle, and it was because of her high degree of selfishness and of how unjust she was.

She curled her fists and opened her eyes slowly, looking at the lush green trees around her, sparrows overhead, and even as a feather dropped down on her knee, falling gracefully as if supported by the very winds, and she picked it up solemnly, her thoughts leaving her mother and going back to the twins, now nine. She wondered what kind of job she could take up to support them, considering the mining usually kept her very busy. She sighed; probably she should go and look for a second job somewhere, so that she could keep sending the kids to school and bring enough food to the table for them to sustain themselves.

And so, she stood up slowly, gearing herself for the task ahead. She liked working for her family, and was determined to find a job that she could take up besides mining. But… where to look? If this had been previous year, she could have worked as a Physical Education teacher at some school, but schools didn't have them anymore. Lyanna found that quite convenient for the Five to do; just make the children weaker by each passing day, rob them off their basic rights like getting educated, and ultimately turn them weak in such a systematic manner. It was such an organised way of carrying out injustice that Lyanna sometimes had trouble even accepting that someone could be so bad, but then was reminded that humans were bad in general, and they thrived on other people's sorrow and helplessness.

She started trudging over the twigs, making her way back into the main District. She thought about asking around to see if anyone wanted to give her some work. Maybe as a domestic help, maybe as an assistant at a shop. She knew finding a job would be hard because she was available to work only during late evening, and she would be lucky to find one at all.

Perhaps, she wasn't the only agitated soul there in the silence of the forest.

She came across him, the boy from the Marchant class, the blond boy with the long hair. She had stumbled upon him before, when he just walked inside her sanctuary, the forest, at random times. She never asked him his name, even thought he had attempted to talk to her once. She just didn't see the point of socialising with random strangers out of the blue, so although she knew him by face, she did not really know who he was.

"Hey there," he said politely, smiling shyly, and Lyanna did something she hadn't thought she would. It was just impulsive.

She nodded at him, and threw a rather dry 'hi' at him.

And yet, she did not know where that came from.

* * *

**Cairn Rochester, 16**

**District Twelve Male**

**Three Weeks before the Reapings**

* * *

Cairn had seen her before.

And it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, nor an unpleasant one as well. It shouldn't have stayed in his mind at all, except that she sought solitude as well, just like him. she never graced him with a reply, and that was okay. For once, Cairn had initiated a conversation by himself, taking the first step, because that was the toughest part in any interaction, whether a conversation or a task, and he had been met by a cold glance. Yet, he didn't mind. Whenever he met her, he smiled lightly, greeting her, and never getting a reply.

So, when he came across her again, obviously in the woods because that's where he always met her, he raised his hand in greeting again, and said a shy 'Hey there.' He wasn't really expecting a response, for when had he ever received one from her, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be polite. Hence, he was beyond astounded when he was dignified with a response, a stiff nod, and a dry acknowledgement of 'Hi.' He was so astonished that for a few good seconds he didn't really respond to her response, but then he collected himself, and his smile widened.

However, what followed was an awkward silence, because Cairn had no idea how to proceed further. It wasn't as if he didn't know how to introduce himself, but he just preferred when the other person took the first step. Besides, this girl was quite intimidating, appearing to be quite a no-nonsense woman, and Cairn didn't want to annoy her.

The girl sighed, because this awkwardness was turning toxic, and muttered, "I'm Lyanna."

"That's a wonderful name!" Cairn exclaimed, and immediately regretted it when he saw the raised brows of the girl in front of him, "Um, sorry. I'm Cairn. My family runs a meat shop."

_And that was _quite _unnecessary._

Cairn wanted to vanish right now. He wondered why he behaved this way, for he was far more composed usually. He was somebody who actively avoided talking, except for courteous greetings. Perhaps, it was the forest aura. Something about it made him nervous and excited simultaneously, but he figured he needed to calm down.

However, Lyanna's expression confused him. He had anticipated, in all honesty, that she would simply walk away now, tired of his shyness and awkwardness and the embarrassment he firmly believed he was putting himself through, but she looked at him strangely… almost as if hopeful?

"Uh…" she started, "I'm a miner."

"That's cool!"

And now, the old Cairn was coming back. He had not wanted to say more than that, even if her response didn't come for at least the next ten seconds. He realised his fear, that he had not really noticed up till now, was gone. He did not know why he had any fear in the first place, because it was he who wanted to talk to her, a frequent companion in his solitude, and that was where he got the answer. The fact that he was used to see someone else in the woods was what frightened him. Why? Probably because she was a girl, and he had an unpleasant experience with a girl quite recently, a girl who had used him and thrown him away… Why on earth was he thinking of Jessa here, in this beautiful forest? The focus here should be this girl, Lyanna, who was apparently saying something when he had zoned out…

"I'm sorry," he said shyly, cutting her off although he didn't want to, "I was lost in thought. Could- could you please repeat?"

"Yeah, sure. I am looking for a job that I can work in the evenings, after my mining work. So, if you know someone who has such a job for me, could you tell me?"

Cairn looked at her, frowning. Well, he _did_ know someone who could give her a job. But would his family find it strange if just walked in with a stranger and ask them to make her a delivery girl? After all, the butcher shop was in need of a delivery person at night, because sometimes meat orders were delivered late. One extra person to help would be quite alright.

After contemplating for solid twenty seconds, he nodded at her, and was surprised to see a smile on her face. It was very slight, almost unnoticeable, but still radiant. And he soon found himself smiling back at her too.

"I can't promise anything," he said, "But I think we can go and talk to my father. He was saying he needed a delivery person for night time, so let's see."

"Oh."

"Well, come along then. Let's go talk to him."

The walk back into the District was calm and soothing, and Cairn was surprised that he felt so at ease walking alongside a girl he barely knew. He didn't feel threatened, something he felt around girls ever since Jessa betrayed him, and he was actually quite glad about it. He was so relaxed that it felt as if they were at his shop in no time, and together they walked in.

Ewan was there, and he raised his hand in greeting, before getting back to his work.

Cairn noticed that his father wasn't there, and his shoulders slumped as a soft sigh escaped his lips. Probably, the man was so drunk that he was incapacitated. It happened a lot these days, even more so when his beautiful mother passed away…

"Okay," he said, turning to Lyanna, suddenly not wanting to meet her eyes. For some reason, he was feeling extremely shy again, and he couldn't figure out the reason. After all, he was comfortable around her in the forest. He took a deep breath, then looked at her full in the face, and nodded.

"Dad's not here, but I guess you can join us. Will you be able to come here around 7-7:30 in the evening, daily?"

"Yeah, no problem."

He nodded, and Lyanna said a very stiff thank you, as if she wasn't used to saying that, before turning around to leave.

"Wait!"

She looked back at him, surprised at being stopped, and completely shocked when Cairn gave her a package of meat. It wasn't the best cut, but it wasn't bad either.

"For you."

And she just looked at him, bewildered, unable to decide what to do. Cairn ran his hand through his hair nervously, and then walked away from her towards Ewan. Lyanna stood there for a couple of seconds, her gaze asking 'why?' but then she too, left the shop. Cairn exhaled, and then glanced at the ring that he wore, his mother's ring, carved out of nothing but iron. His sweet mother, who had introduced the policy of donating bad cuts of meat among the poorer people, who had always encouraged looking after the employees of the shop.

He rubbed his finger lightly over the ring as he recalled Lyanna's reaction to receiving the package. It looked as if such a gesture was alien to her… And that thought made him so much proud of his late mother.

He smiled softly, and then turned to his best friend Ewan, ready to tell him everything that had happened.

* * *

**Okay! So here's our second last introduction chapter! I know I'm moving slowly, but eh. Things have been busy. Anyway, whom did you like here? I'd love to hear your thoughts! I'm also sorry if the characters seem a little off. This is one chapter where I can say I'm not confident about the depictions for all of them, because I wasn't very focused on writing. So, if you have any feedback on what could be different or better, you can PM me. Well, it's very late right now, so I think I'll just end this.**

**Have a great day!**


	12. Chapter 12

**District Two**

* * *

**Napoleon "Nate" Walter, 18**

**District Two Male**

**Six months thirteen days before the Reapings**

* * *

"Well, now that you've summarised our session, I hope you're going to remember what we have discussed and will give at least some time this week to think over it, Mr Mason."

"Certainly, Napoleon. Thank you. Although, I'm afraid I might not be able to attend our session on Thursday. Can we have it on Friday, same time?"

"I have a session already fixed for that time, Mr Mason. However, I'll be free at 5 PM on Friday. Will that work for you?"

"Absolutely. Thank you, Napoleon."

"Have a good day, Mr Mason."

And with that, young Mr Napoleon Walters stood up from his simple chair, smiling kindly at Mr Mason and started towards the door, escorting his client. The room was not very fancy, for nobody in District Two really believed that making things look good mattered in the grand scheme of affairs. However, Nate had designed it in a simple way, that the walls looked like simple white tiles, with laminated quotes and soft lighting, and it indeed worked wonders. His clients seemed to like the design, for it put them at ease.

Nate stopped at the door and shook hands with Mr Mason, who thanked him again for the session, before leaving. Nate waited at the door till Mr Mason turned back and waved, a pattern that he had noticed during the first session itself, and Nate had enough knowledge about his field to know that clients liked having a safe space, a predictable environment, and some familiar gestures. Thus, Nate waited after every session for Mr Mason to wave at him as a good-bye, before shutting the door and retiring himself to his rather simple and unfashionable chair, a piece made of steel with a light cushion, a shade of deep brown that seemed to not only relax Nate but also his clients. Post that, he would read over the notes of the session that he had just ended, and then read the notes of the client that he was about to see.

That day too, as usual, Napoleon Walter sat down slowly in his chair, the notes on Prometheus Mason kept neatly on the desk that stood in front of him, a nice work of oakwood. Nate adjusted his glasses as he opened the files slowly, taking in every detail.

Prometheus had been in an unusually good mood today. Of course, Napoleon was pleasantly surprised to see his client arrive at his doorstep with a big smile on his round face, as Napoleon had never really seen Mr Mason smile that genuinely before. The reason turned out to be his son. Prometheus had been constantly worrying over not being able to take care of his son well enough. The man was actually quite anxious but slowly and gradually he had overcome the struggles, the doubts, and as Nate had predicted, was actually quite a good father. He had been happy today because his son had said his first word, the word 'dadda', and Napoleon couldn't help but feel proud of Mr Mason. It had been a struggle but he was dealing well with it, staying strong, and Nate was there to listen. Mr Mason had been so happy that Nate let the session take ten minutes extra. Usually, he was strict with his timings as a therapist, allotting fifty minutes to each session. However, he kept a break of thirty minutes between two sessions in case his client needed that extra time, and today it seemed like it was needed.

Napoleon stood up again after gently closing the files. He had no other sessions that day, Mr Mason being the last on Thursdays, but he decided to stay in anyway. After all his official timings were till 7 PM, and it was only a quarter past six. So, he walked up to the small kitchen area that had been designed in the office itself, humming a romantic tune, and set the kettle to boil. He did feel tired, and tea would be great at this time.

He decided he should read some notes of other clients in the meantime, when there was an abrupt knock on his door, only three knocks. He frowned, wondering who would visit him right now. Probably a new client? Nate frowned. He was in a 'Career district' after all. Post rebellion, a lot of people in Career districts were targeted, especially if they had been training. And Napoleon was not just a trainee, he had been the chosen volunteer for the games before they were scrapped. It was likely they would want to talk to him.

But perhaps, he mused, he was overthinking the whole situation. Perhaps it really was a new client. Whatever the case, Nate was swiftly at the door, hand pausing at the handle just for a second, before he opened the door slowly, almost bracing himself for an attack.

However, the person who was standing in front of him, standing tall in her long boots and tank top, dirty and covered with mud, a bright twinkle in her mischievous eyes, was someone whom Nate had not expected at all. He was tempted to shut the door in her face just for the laughs, but his thirteen-year-old sister quickly slipped into the office, grinning at her big brother almost as if she had won a lottery.

"What… were you doing kiddo?" Nate asked, eyeing her from top to bottom.

"Playing," she laughed, "We were role playing and performing an act. I was a miner. I think you can tell that."

"Well, yes I can."

"So, you done for the day?" Raina asked as she hopped further into the office and sat down on Nate's chair. Her elder brother, on his part, did a great show of folding his arms across his chest and raising his brows at the girl, pretending to be angry.

"Look here Miss, dirtying my chair is not a good idea."

And he glared, or tried to, but Raina simply sat in a weird position that made the chair even dirtier.

"What you going to do now?" she asked, wiggling her brows, and Nate did the same, trying to keep himself from laughing. Raina couldn't quite process when her brother disappeared into the bathroom, or when he just put shaving foam on her face, for he kept it in his office bathroom for some reason he himself couldn't explain, and then smiled innocently at his sister as he went to pour himself a cup of tea.

"What on _earth_?!" Raina exclaimed, jumping to her feet in mock fury, and as Napoleon was about to take the cup to Raina instead, for what kind of brother would drink tea while his sister didn't have any, he was met with the white foam as well, collecting on his glasses. He gasped in mock surprise, and glared hard.

"Not good kiddo."

However, he did not allow himself to be carried away by what was about to happen. Calling for a time-out, he gathered all the files from his desk and deposited them neatly in a cupboard, following which he locked it. now that the files were safe, the war could begin.

He had no idea how long it lasted, but as the tea turned colder and colder, Nate and Raina became messier and messier, both of them bathed with foam, the office decorated in specks of foam a if it were part of the initial design. There was a lot of chasing, a lot of laughing, and ultimately, they both collapsed on the floor like two happy children after a day of playing hard. As they both lay there, grinning and staring at the ceiling, something dawned on Nate.

"Shoot, we'll have to clean this for tomorrow."

* * *

**Josephine Marcellus, 18**

**District Two Female**

**Eighteen Days before the Reapings**

* * *

It was a small thing, a deadly star, moving towards her swiftly.

It cut through the air, flying in a perfectly foreseen path, and Kaia Jason smiled in an almost wicked fashion, quite certain that the star, a work of metal, would hit its target. It wasn't exactly sharp, since it was meant for training purposes only, but Kaia just needed to hit her opponent in a vital spot with it to win the opportunity.

However, as it happened with the most unwise of humans, she had completely disregarded her opponent. As soon as the star was near to make an impact, its target jumped upward in almost somersault even as the star fell on the fighting ring with a small _thud_, and with that the girl landed gracefully on her feet, a friendly smile on her face as she beckoned Kaia to throw more stars, or knives, or anything of the likeness.

Josephine Marcellus was not arrogant, neither was she ignorant, but she liked a challenge, and this fight was fun. Technically, both she and Kaia were 'injured', and she knew they were both going to have a good laugh over it later. No, they weren't close friends but mere acquaintances, but they were cordial, and that was enough for Josephine. So, when Kaia struck again, she dived to the side like a graceful feline, rolled over till she was in a crouching position, and threw a knife of her own, again a rather blunt one. Kaia hastily jumped aside, and that was what Josephine was waiting for. In those few seconds where Kaia was disoriented, Josephine jumped at her, as if a lioness pouncing on her prey, ready to take home the hunted, and hit Kaia hard. The objective was not to hurt the other girl, for Josephine didn't see a reason to; the objective was to make her loosen her grip, and with a kick, Josephine knocked out the stars from Kaia's hands, sad down on her waist n a way that the other girl was pinioned on the floor, and brought down her knife, resting it against her throat. If the situation were real, Josephine would have easily sliced her throat, and Kaia couldn't have gotten away.

Most likely, the judges realised it too, for soon the referee had asked her to move away, and they were being whisked away. There had been a few injuries after all, as those were inevitable in the volunteer selection process, and one of the medic-trainers was giving her a once over. Josephine smiled at him, and assured him that nothing major was done, and that she wasn't too injured; a couple of bandages would do the trick. She saw in the distance that her worthy rival, Kaia, was also saying the same to her trainer.

"You were brilliant!" Dexter exclaimed, giving her a short hug that she returned warmly.

"Thank you, Dex," Josephine smiled brightly, before slowly uncorking her water bottle, the coolness of the vessel making her warm palms feel better. She touched the bottle, a nice steel one, to her lips and took a slow, deliberate sip, eyes shut, feeling relaxed. She knew the results would be in her favour, and even if they weren't, she was lady enough to accept it with grace.

The girls were called to the centre of the ring once again. Josephine tied her hair, and slowly walked over to the ring, smiling lightly in a way that was neither too happy nor proud, just a simple and beautiful smile, and she was pleased to see that Kaia was wearing one too. The two shook hands, and Josephine noticed that despite her smile, Kaia's grip was rather hard. Firm grips showed strength and confidence, but Josephine realised that Kaia wished to crush her fingers. This somewhat disappointed the girl; Kaia was a strong rival and still only seventeen. She would have her chance again next year if not now, and Josephine wished she could have taken a possible defeat in stride. Most likely, Josephine was already chosen, as she had just won the match. Sometimes, however, the trainers didn't send the winners to the Games if they believed their temperament was not correct. Correct, Josephine thought, was a rather vague term, and couldn't be relied upon. However, she would respect the decision regardless.

"That was a good fight," Ricardus, the head trainer said, smiling proudly at the two trainees, "You both are competent to fight in the Games. We've seen how Kaia is good with weapons, and during the years you've been training, we've been proud of your strength. Josephine, on the other hand, has impressed us with her flexibility and clear thinking, and those are what helped her win against a strong opponent. Taking into account this match, as well your journeys as trainees, we've decided that Josephine Marcellus will represent District Two for this year's Hunger Games. Congratulations Josephine, and we believe you'll make us proud."

The hall erupted in applause, and Josephine smiled politely, thanking Ricardus, receiving a rather innocent hug from Kaia, while they both knew how much Kaia wanted to hit her in a way that would incapacitate her from volunteering, and then she was surrounded by people from all around her, congratulating her, telling her they'd be rooting for her victory, _their_ victory, and Josephine couldn't help but feel proud.

She was glad that her ballet training had given her the flexibility and grace that had brough her here today; she had been dancing since she was a mere baby of eighteen months. That was a long time of training, and to think that initially she had not even wanted to be a tribute! Well, that wasn't the case now; she was going to be a tribute and giver her best to win. Her District deserved that. Her mother and sister deserved that. And maybe, after that, she could perform her art at the national level, showcase her dance on the Capitolite stage, where it would belong to her and only her. Her elder sister Ivania, a national level ballerina, had already achieved that feat. Ivania Marcellus was a name that the whole Capitol knew, and after her victory, Josephine Marcellus' name would be there too.

But for now, she was happy and content to have been chosen. Perhaps, when the crowd thinned a bit and the celebrations at the Academy ended, she could go and dance for herself.

She was looking forward to that.

* * *

**District Eight**

* * *

**Kespar Lynx, 15**

**District Eight Male**

**Four Days before the Reapings**

* * *

Kespar was not feeling particularly good about the situation.

One could call it being worrisome, another could call it instinct… whatever it was, it was bothering Kespar. It was rare for him to not focus in class; he kind of knew everything ears after that thing was taught, thanks to his eidetic memory, but that day he could not focus however hard he tried. Thankfully, Ms Calliope did not call him out on that, probably understanding that something would be worrying him. Kespar couldn't quite place _why_ he was feeling this way, or why he wanted to go home and just shut his eyes and think of nothing.

Hence, Kespar was quite relieved when the school finally ended.

Putting his wooden chair right up against the wooden desk, he grabbed his schoolbag and left the dusty classroom that might not have been cleaned in what might have been months. He walked down the corridor rather briskly, the windows displaying the strong sun outside, and Kespar could not wait to be out of the school campus. The campus was of medium area, with a playground for students to play with an old football. The Five had cancelled Physical Education completely, so the grounds were not really used, and Kespar was tempted to head over there and just lie down on the hard ground and stare at the sky, hoping to calm himself to some degree. However, he knew how pesky his peers could be, and so he decided against the idea.

And soon, he was running down the roads, past the many people who just went about their lives, not looking worried at all. But they should be, they should be, _they should be!_ Something bad was about to happen, he could feel it in his heart, and upon entering his home, Kespar threw his bag aside and shut the door of his room, sinking into his old bed. He shut his eyes, breathing deeply, unable to understand why he was feeling so hopeless, so desperate, so helpless…

Although, in the back of his mind, he probably _knew_ why he was so disturbed. Four days. That was all that remained. Four days to the Reapings. Kespar was not aware about how other people felt about it; he had seen them go about normally, but then, one could say that he was being his normal self too. Except that he wasn't.

Kespar did not know what to expect. It was quite probable that he would be picked, chosen to fight to the death. Yes, there was enough chance that he would _not_ be chosen at all, that he was worrying for absolutely no reason, but he could not bring himself to simply ignore the possibility of being Reaped.

Things had just started returning to normal in District Eight, and that normalcy had been snatched away again. Kespar didn't know quite whom to blame, or whether he should be bothering about blaming anyone either, but it didn't make it easier for him to accept it.

It was almost pathetic how he started searching his room for the tapes, the tapes that had recordings of the Games from long, long ago, from before he was born, from before his parents were also born. Those tapes had just been there in his house, and when he had asked his parents about why they were there, they had said they belonged to the previous owner of their house, who had just left these behind. Kespar had never bothered to watch these Games; for some reason he had never felt this uneasy before. The Games had been there earlier, before being annulled, and yet he had never thought that he would be chosen. This time though, there just seemed to be an impending doom over him, a feeling of dread he could not shake off, and he wanted to watch, watch and prepare himself for what was to come. He did not have the recordings of the more recent Games for his family had, naturally, not recorded any. Who in their right mind would, except the previous owner of their small and copious house?

Kespar forced himself to inhale deeply; stressing out over a vague possibility was not good for anyone. As he just stood there, in the corner of his room, he recalled that his parents had kept the tapes in the small storeroom, which wasn't actually a room, just a small space near the kitchen to dump things that nobody needed. It had been months ago, yet Kespar remembered with an unusual clarity exactly where they were, and soon he was standing in front of a battered down wooden cupboard, bending down to open its last drawer, a place usually used to keep shoes, but there they were, wrapped in a brown paper, those tapes.

Solemnly, he played the tape that he saw first, the Seventy Ninth Hunger Games. It must have happened many, many years ago…

And he sat down on the cane chair in the hall, staring at the screen with a morbid interest, as he saw the girl from Nine losing her sanity slowly but steadily. Could that happen to him to? The arena was much more creative than the more recent ones, and Kespar knew he had to prepare himself for such surprises as well. The arena was a huge garden, a garden of fresh red roses that gave off radiations, so tributes had to wear a special suit when in the garden. There was also a forest, with various kinds of mutts and flowers that killed tributes in really brutal ways. And yet, Kespar watched now not with a lingering fear, but with a clinical interest, almost as if he were a scientist studying his experiments.

It was almost night by the time he had finished watching the recordings. He was going to remember these Games forever, he just had that kind of memory and actually remembered all the Games that he had watched in an astonishingly detailed manner. The finale had been unbelievable; the girl from Nine, a mere child of thirteen, had finished off a Career from Two. Alessandra Farro, the girl who had turned completely insane by the end. While her journey had been inspirational, Kespar could only take one lesson from her.

It was foolish to underestimate the young ones in the Games.

And yet, time and again, people committed this fallacy, this hesitance that ended up costing them their lives. Kespar frowned as he looked down at his hands, lost in thought. In the scenario that he was Reaped, how willing would he be to kill another person? Could he fight off careers? Make a working alliance? Somewhere, he knew he shouldn't overthink the whole situation, there were plenty of children in the District that could be Reaped instead.

But for whatever reason, Kespar couldn't bring himself to ignore this feeling…

* * *

**Estefania "Cupid" Sanchez, 18**

**District Eight Female**

**Seven Months Three Days before the Reapings**

* * *

It was almost as if Cupid could smell love.

She had just been walking down the street, ready to go home after a long day of singing rehearsals. Her band, 'The Heartbreakers' performed in the town square every Friday night, and tomorrow would be Friday night. Naturally, she needed to practice. Following which, Cupid could go home and then head over to her little 'office'. A lot was on her mind as she walked, and she was basically looking forward to the next night.

She stopped midway though, her ears pricking, picking up sounds that only Cupid could pick up. They were sobs, but not any other sobs. These were sobs of pure and brutal _heartbreak._

She felt a _pang_ in her heart, and she frowned just a bit. Whoever it was, they needed her. They needed help, they needed someone to tell them everything would be okay, tell them that they were loved, and someone who would probably solve their problems in a practical manner.

_I wish someone would look out for me too._

Cupid shook that thought away rather aggressively. She helped people because she liked to do so, and nobody had ever forced her into anything. Plus, there was a distressed individual at hand, and soon Cupid was simply drifting forward, almost as if the sound waves of the quiet sobs, sobs that nobody would have heard, not even Cupid if they hadn't sounded like those of 'heartbreak', and Cupid found herself in an alley of sorts, a quiet and clean alley, with just one small individual sitting crouched down on the pavement, head buried in her knees, a mess of dark hair.

Cupid sighed to herself on seeing the girl; she was a mess. She walked towards her, her feet stepping ahead lightly, making no sound. It wasn't intentional, Cupid was just elusive. The girl sat down beside the crying one, and lightly placed her hand on the other's shoulder, her touch meant to be comforting, but it ended up startling the poor girl, who almost jumped, recoiling backwards, almost falling.

"I'm sorry," Cupid said kindly, "I didn't mean to startle you. I just heard you…crying… and wanted to check on you."

The other girl blinked a couple of times, tears still in her eyes, and Cupid smiled kindly and encouragingly.

"I-I don't even know you. Why would you care?"

The way it was said hurt Cupid, but not because it was targeted at her. This girl must be feeling so unloved, so alone, to rob her of any faith in her fellow humans. But Cupid would set that right.

"I'm Cupid," she replied, smiling brightly, and the name was what caught the girl's attention. Cupid wanted to sigh again, _of course_ she'd have heard it before.

"Cupid as in, the Cupid of Cupid Love Service?"

"Yeah, the very same."

"Oh my goodness!" the stranger exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, a relieved and shocked smile on her face, and Cupid was positively taken aback when she threw her arms around her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She hugged her back though, and was happy that she could make this gloomy girl smile at all.

"I'm Bliss," she said, releasing her slowly, "I really, _really _need your help."

"Yes, tell me Bliss, I'm right here," Cupid replied soothingly, holding her shoulder lightly in a comforting manner.

"Del doesn't seem to notice… I don't have the courage to tell him…"

"We can go together and talk to him."

"No, I mean, I don't know whether he likes me back or not. I don't even know his likes and dislikes. I just- I was about to fall off my window one day at school, and Del saved my life then like the hero he is. I-I haven't even thanked him, we didn't talk much after that because we're in different classes, but I _so _want him to know but I'm afraid as well."

Bliss stopped in her monologue to take a breath and looked at Cupid, "It's hopeless, isn't it?"

"On the contrary," Cupid said, stroking her chin just a bit, biting on her lower lip, "I think it can totally work out!"

"You think so?!"

"Positive. He saved your life. He's a knight in shining armour. You just have to be his princess."

"But… how do I do that?"

"Worry not! Let's head to my office, and discuss this over some hot tea, cool?"

"Sure!"

And with that, Cupid stood up, brushing off her skirt and then proceeding to help Bliss up too. She was glad that the girl wasn't crying anymore, and was quite happy actually. She had a nice smile, and Cupid couldn't help but let one slide on her face too. The walk to the office of 'Cupid Love Centre' wasn't very long. The girl often laughed when she thought about her 'business'; it wasn't an actual business as she didn't charge any money for her services, firmly believing in working for other humans with love and compassion, but she definitely had a lot going. Cupid had made three matches just this week, and her services were growing popular by the day. Heck, it was her friends who named her 'Cupid', friends that she helped get together, and she sometimes forgot now that she was Estefania Sanchez as well. It was just Cupid, that's how the town knew her, that's how they referred to her.

_Cupid who can't even have someone love her._

She almost yelled at herself to stop thinking this way. She had a task at hand, for goodness' sake! She was working on making someone else happy, it was not time to delve in self-pity. It was time to focus.

She welcomed Bliss to her small and quaint office, and offered her a seat. Taking to the kitchen, she put the kettle to boil the tea, and settled down in front of Bliss, smiling widely.

"Okay, so, what's his full name?"

"Del Magnum."

"That's such a beautiful name! Do you know his friends?"

"Well, I know that a guy named Marsh from my class is his friend."

"Very well Bliss, if you want to know your guy, you should know his friends. My band is performing in the town square tomorrow evening, so you can bring your friend Marsh there, along with your other friends, and _then_ we'll get down to work."

"Are-are you sure this will work?"

"Definitely dude! And let's talk over what else we need to take care of…"

* * *

**Hello lovely people, here are the last introductions! I hope this chapter wasn't too bad, I have been ill for a few days so this didn't turn out to be as good as it could be, but I wanted to get it done. So, what do you think of these last bunch of people? Who do you like the best, and the least? Also, what would be your final chart from the introductions?**

**Also, it's time for the second check in. Please PM your tribute's interview angle in a PM titled as Check In 2. That will help me keep track of all the check ins I receive. Also, just because I am asking for interview angle doesn't mean I'm going to write those. XD **

**Here, I'd like to give a shoutout to my friend Ripple237. He has an SYOT open right now, Black Valentine, and it has a really cool Quell twist. Do make sure to check it out and send some great characters to him! Also do check out Santiago Poncini 20 and Silver/LCS' collab Ohana. It's quite into the Games, but it's a short read, so send some love their way! The story is on 20's profile.**

**Anyway, enough from me now. See you soon, probably next year, I don't know. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**

**Have a great day!**

**PS: Sorry for throwing in a The Garden of Roses reference XD**


	13. Chapter 13

Lisa could not believe her friend had been so stupid.

It had taken an insane amount of negotiation, buttering and convincing to let the Five go off Jason Magagna. She had been reviewing the Games preparation when the news reached her that a 'foreigner' had been washed ashore in District Four. Initially, she paid the news no heed, but then she saw the face of the man that was her friend, one of her best friends ever in all honesty, and that was when she panicked. She had been lucky that the reports had reached Dianna first instead of someone like Giovanni, who would have definitely shot him in the head on sight. Dianna hadn't exactly been easy to persuade either, but Lisa had claimed she 'loved' Jason, and her friend, the amazing girl that she was, figured out a solution for him. She got him engaged to Lisa, and told her brothers that Jason was her fiancé, and that was what really bought him his life.

Lisa just wanted to explode now.

Things were getting harder and harder with each passing day, and she had no idea how to go about gamemaking. She had taken the help of some of the Europians, but they didn't seem to know anything better than she did herself. The pressure was on, and now Jason had come in her life like a tornado.

Probably she should pack her bags and leave.

That was quite tempting, in all honesty, but she knew she couldn't really do that. She was stuck here, and she hoped that the Five would find their sister before the Games started. Perhaps, if they did, they would just move on, and young kids wouldn't have to die. The thought always sent a chill down Lisa's spine. She was used to death, so used to it that it did not affect her much anymore, but these people were still children. She started feeling nauseous whenever she remembered that _she_ was the one sending them off to their deaths.

There was a knock on her door, bringing her back to her room in the so-called Game centre, a small structure that the Five had simply assembled since the older structure had been brought down earlier by late Madam Nerilla. Lisa realised that she had been staring at the map of the arena all this while pondering on her thoughts, and that she was supposed to finalise it today.

She got up with a sigh, rearranging her features into the cold-hearted girl's that everyone knew her to be, and opened the door, only to look at the only Panemian on the gamemaking team, the designer of mutts, a girl who should probably be still in college. Whatever the case, Everleigh Marshall had proved herself to be useful in many ways. She had the best ideas, ideas that could come only after years of watching those dastardly Games, those blot on mankind. Lisa sometimes wondered how on earth the Panemians even came up with such a thing. Literally no other country did that.

"Hello Ms Hermosa," Everleigh smiled.

"Hello Ms Marshall, please come in."

The younger girl stepped into Lisa's office, a place that was so bare that most people would not have been able to even work in it. there was just a desk there and three chairs, a single short cupboard and a very small television and a mini fridge in the corner. There was literally nothing else, no decoration, no personalisation, nothing. Everleigh sat down on the seat opposite Lisa's and nodded.

"So, Lisa, my team has decided that probably we should use these set of muttations. I think these should really, really spice up the Games."

With that, Everleigh placed her wrist watch on the table, and tapped the dial with a stylus of sorts. A hologram appeared on the desk, the mutts staring back at Lisa, and she felt her stomach tighten. As Everleigh went on showing her various designs, Lisa felt more and more like vomiting. This was cruel, the diagrams that she was seeing. How was she supposed to put another _person_ through this?! Did it have to be so fancy?!

"Everleigh," she cut off after the fourth design, "These are really good ideas but do we really need to do this? I mean, we're starting the Games after a whole year of nothing and maybe we should go easy on the people for the first time."

"Or make an explosive entry," Everleigh smiled, making Lisa almost cringe, "I mean, the world should know how creative Europians can be! And Panemians enjoy a good game. After all, it's much more fun to see a tribute blow up in smithereens than being killed by a lion in like one or two strikes."

"That… is something."

"Exactly! Please do consider these designs. Of course, your call is final but we have worked really hard on these. I hope you at least consider them."

"Sure will."

Everleigh's eyes fell on the arena, and they widened. She reached out for the map and turned it around, looking at it quite clinically, and then glanced up at Lisa with a gleam in her eyes.

"This is the finalised version?"

"Almost. Need to edit a few things, but mostly, yeah."

"Oh. Those tributes are going to scream _so _hard."

"Yeah," Lisa said, finally smirking in the way that would suit a traditional Head Gamemaker, cringing hard on the inside, "That was the idea."

Everleigh laughed lightly, and then stood up, picking up her watch and wearing it back on.

"I'll take your leave now. I've sent you the designs."

"Cool, thanks."

And as the door shut again, Lisa let out a frustrated groan, punched the desk hard. She knew she should probably watch the Reaping recaps, but she just couldn't. She didn't want to watch the faces of children she was about to kill. Probably that would make it easier for her, to do what she was supposed to.

At least, that's what she hoped.

* * *

Giovanni Delmount's thought process, however, was quite different than that of Lisa Hermosa.

These people, these Panemians, were beneath him. Killing children was their _tradition_, for goodness' sake! Was there any reason why he should feel bad about watching the Reaping recaps? After all, he was stressed out, hunting immigrants, implementing a nationwide DNA collection of citizens. His sister could be anyone. Probably she even had a reassignment surgery. Probably she was still the same. Probably she had demonised her siblings in her mind, since she probably wouldn't even know them, and disguise as someone older, or maybe even younger. He did not know, and couldn't leave anything to chance.

Then there were the immigrants. He had single-handedly made sure that people were reporting them. They were people who most likely had knowledge of the outside world, about the Five, about their history. Since Panem as a nation was so ignorant, he planned to keep it that way.

Right now, he was alone. Dianna was working with Lisa, Joffery was out 'partying' like the idiot he was, and Louis and Harry were analysing the data they had collected till now. Giovanni was fed up of Joffery now. Despite telling him again and again that it was dangerous to party in the situation they were in, his younger brother simply ignored him. Gio wished that he acted like a prince that he was, with class and dignity, but that was too much to expect from a wasted person like him. it was him that made Gio so furious, so frustrated, and he turned on the television to distract himself.

Yeah, he was going to force himself to enjoy watching children being picked for murder.

District One's boy was a fiery young man, angry even. Jupiter Aeneas looked so enraged, so confident, and so strong that he caught Gio's attention in a second. He just had that kind of aura, and Gio couldn't help but smile. The girl, Margaery Goldman, was almost exactly opposite. No, she was confident too, but she was so relaxed, so much at ease, that it surprised Gio. He knew about Career tradition, but he had not expected anyone to be so… calm about the whole thing.

The District Two boy, Napoleon Walter, was probably a crowd favourite. People were cheering crazily for the bespectacled boy, who had the most dazzling smile on his face. He looked proud and humble at the same time, something that was hard to pull off, but he did it. his District Partner, Josephine Marcellus, got the same kind of applause from the crowd. She was confident and graceful, her smile worthy of a lady, and she raised her hand in greeting, making the crowd go wilder.

Dsitrict Three was the first District that gave him a reaction he would expect from normal humans in such a situation. Basically, the whole crowd was sad. When the boy, Rook Karis, was Reaped, nobody volunteered. Rook looked as if he had never expected to be chosen, looking stunned for a second. He tried to smile, but Gio could feel his terror in his eyes, eyes that were fleeting. The girl's Reaping, however, enraged the public. A lot of people started shouting in anger to protest against choosing Cat Doyle, a little thirteen-year-old girl. It was looking at her that Gio gulped. It would be hard to see this child die. She was trying to smile, telling people to keep calm, but her eyes were bleak, and she was clapping her, shaking her head even harder, in a rhythmic manner, almost as if it was a tic.

District Four offered those manic volunteers again, those who were happy about going to a death match. The girl was chosen first here, and soon Cruxia Marshall replaced her, a somewhat happy smile on her beautiful face. She stood proudly, thanked her District for supporting her, and she just radiated a kind of confidence that suggested that she had been looking forward to this. In contrast, Nereus didn't look particularly happy. Sure, he was confident, but he looked kind of sad at the same time, as if he didn't really want to do it but had no choice.

Nell Tinker was another child that tugged at Gio's heartstrings. He did not want to see her die. The poor girl was frozen at her spot, eyes wide, almost trembling. It was when the Peacekeepers started towards her that she ran forward onto the stage. Dekker Mattson was quite composed compared to her. He looked angry ad frightened, but he wasn't showing it. He was probably a tough one.

District Six, however, offered a girl, Akira Tuktuk, in such elaborate clothing that despite themselves, people were staring hard at her. She was wearing a leopard pattern dress, something most District citizens most likely wouldn't choose, and she had a weird grimace on her face. The boy, young Aron Rail, was not liking this. "*** this!" he cried out, followed by a long string of obscene words that they had to beep out, before getting to the stage.

District Seven offered another twelve-year-old, Ark Zagog, who completely lost his mind when his name was called out. He was freaking out, crying, shouting, trembling so hard that people were stepping away from him. It was a task to get him on stage. Calista Birchwood, on the other hand, was quite calm. Sure, she looked stressed out, but she had composed herself well enough.

District Eight's Kespar Lynx was paralysed when his name was caught. It was as if he had a worldly realisation, probably of the fact that he could die, and he was frozen. His eyes were bleak, a single tear rolling down, and then he stepped forward. An uproar similar to that in Three happened in Eight when Estefania Sanchez was Reaped. The girl looked sad, a tear rolling down her cheek but she wiped it away and told the crowd that it was okay. She definitely tried to look okay, but Gio could see how disturbed she felt.

District Nine's Dakota Neenah was shocked, to say the least. Her mouth was hanging open, and she looked angry and distressed. Gio could see she was cursing them internally, but he did not really care. Kai Jung was silent when he stepped forward. He walked almost as if in a trance, and Gio assumed it was because it was hard for him to process the whole thing.

Now, District Ten was interesting. The mayor had already informed them of Avni Silvan, the immigrant who was forced into volunteering. He had expected her to be a crying mess, but instead she was confident and looked completely calm. Jet Leather, however, cursed so loudly that it almost forced Gio to turn off the TV. He was just a small boy, and Gio felt bad for him, but he was glad that his next words were all censored and he wouldn't have to hear anything apart from the initial abusive word.

District Eleven's Basileus Paladino was a volunteer, and an angry one at that. Gio had heard that there had been attempts to make Eleven a Career district, and this was the result. He looked so angry that he could honestly contest with Jupiter where anger was concerned. Next was Belladonna Betony, a girl who laughed at being Reaped, laughed when she got on the stage, and then started crying there, falling on her knees and weeping. She was handling herself even worse than Ark in Gio's opinion.

Lyanna Winters from Twelve looked… at peace? She was calm. Angry, but calm, not expecting anyone to help her out. She was surprised when her District Partner was Reaped. Cairn Rochester was a really shy guy, and when he moved forward, he looked shocked and yet indifferent. However, his shyness was simply making it difficult For Gio to get a good read on him.

Giovanni turned off the television with a sigh. This was a bunch of interesting people, and he was dreading that the younger ones would have to die. He had expected himself to be steely, but he was feeling upset instead.

However, this was no time to feel that way. he had ventured in too deep already.

The Games had to continue.

* * *

**Well, hello everyone! Happy New Year! This is the Reaping Recap. I don't do it usually, but it took so long to finish the introductions that I thought it would be good to do so. What do you think of this chapter? Everleigh is on the team too, and she has some designs that making Lisa uncomfortable. What kind of mutts do you think they were?**

**Also, my partial SYOT Sinners and Saints is open now. It is a direct sequel to Mirage of Lies, and I hope you submit to it. Even if you haven't read my previous stories, you can find some summary/guidelines on my profile, and you can always PM me too. Hoping to see you guys there!**

**Have a great day and a great new year!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Train Rides**

* * *

**Jet Leather, 13**

**District Ten Male**

* * *

Jet Leather tapped his foot on the train board as he stared out of the window, green fields and forests passing by, and he saw animals on some fields, bulls ploughing the land. The bulls reminded him of his cows back home, and he felt himself becoming somewhat angry again.

"*** this," he muttered, not raising his voice at all lest Kaila would hear him. He was not afraid of her, he was afraid of few things, but Kaila was a woman of high talent in annoying people. Jet was already not looking forward to sessions with her, as she was their mentor and escort, and she appeared to have absolutely no idea as to how things should happen. Well, he was not planning on wasting his time on someone like Kaila; if she intended on being irritating throughout this ordeal, Jet planned on carving out a solution on his own.

He folded his arms across his chest, frowning in a childish manner, making a decision that was going to be hard. He was not going to ask Kaila for help, no matter what, because she had no business Reaping him. There were so many other people out there who could have been chosen! It was the prospect of an almost certain death that made him clench his jaws rather forcefully, the bulls not mattering to him anymore. They were just a blur now, a reflection of what he could be doing were he not here, and that was enraging Jet. The Reapings had been abolished! There was no reason to bring them back! Sadness clenched at Jet's heart, but he refused to cry. Jet never cried, however bad the situation. He became grumpy, shouted obscenities, fought even, but never cried, and he was not going to change that this time as well. He was upset, feeling the impending doom weighing down on his shoulders, on his young heart, on his childish mind, and he cracked his knuckles in frustration. He felt like breaking something, anything, especially Kaila's bones, but the woman in question wasn't present there, retiring herself to her own room. Unlike the Capitol escorts, she did not even pretend to care. She had simply asked whether they wanted to discuss strategy, and when neither he nor Avni had replied, she had gone on and on about how likely they were to die, how they deserved it, and how being arrogant was not going to take them anywhere. Then, she had left.

If being shocked about being sent to a deathmatch was being arrogant, then Jet was going to remain arrogant. He was not interested in initiating a conversation with that irritating woman. She was not worthy of any attention as far as he was concerned. However, all his frustration and anger and annoyance had not killed off his hunger. Jet felt as if _needed_ to eat right away, eat anything. His family was poor, and even after he had dropped out of school, things were hard. He had a measly breakfast that day, and it was almost five in the evening now. his stomach was growling louder than his thoughts had, and he sighed. Probably he should go and find a kitchen. He had not seen any servant, Avox or otherwise. Come to think of it, he had not seen any kind of snacks or such on the train. Perhaps it was all stacked away. He had heard stories that tribute trains were loaded with all kinds of delicacy, but there was nothing that he could see.

Sighing, he got up from his seat, put on is hole-laden shoes again, and started walking towards the door of the train compartment. The door slid open and he stepped into Avni's car, where he stopped at the sight in front of him.

His District Partner had _volunteered_, something that was unthinkable, and yet there she sat on her own chair by the window, sobbing quietly. Jet paused at the barely audible sound and frowned at the figure. He thought about letting her do what she wanted to do, which seemed to be crying at the moment, as that would avoid any conversation. Jet didn't particularly dislike people, but he was not interested in communicating much, especially not with strangers. People did things that were stupid or annoying, talked about things that were stupid or annoying, were interested in things that were stupid or annoying. Jet did not know how to go about handling such people.

But here she was, a girl that was four years older than himself, a girl who had volunteered, crying to herself, away from everyone. He did not like that such a big girl was crying, and his steps automatically changed their tracks, and he was soon standing beside her. She seemed to sense his presence, and she looked up hastily, startled, eyes wide. She relaxed a bit when she saw it was just him, and furiously wiped away the tears that were on her cheeks.

"Hey Jet."

"You shouldn't cry."

"What?"

"You're so old. You volunteered. You should not cry."

Avni looked back at Jet with soft eyes, as if he could not understand where she was coming from, and probably she was right. Jet could not pretend that he knew everything, but he was at least tough about the whole thing, and not a weeping mess like her.

"You need to toughen up. Crying gets people nowhere. You've put yourself in this situation. You need to be strong and stop crying."

He immediately regretted saying that though, for Avni's eyes welled up again. he had no intention to hurt her, he just wanted to help her act tough for her own good. The boy did not know what to do, he was not particularly good with handling emotions, especially emotions of big girls, and he was about to excuse himself when Avni stood up. he was shocked, taken aback, when she wrapped her arms around him.

Jet was not used to being hugged.

It wasn't tight, it wasn't long, it was quick and innocent, and he was even more surprised to see that Avni had wiped her tears away again and was smiling now.

"Thank you Jet," she said, and Jet just noticed that her way of speaking was different, unlike any that he had ever heard. It wasn't like the Capitolites, it wasn't even like Kaila. He had never heard anyone speak in such an accent before, such a strong accent.

"I will keep that in mind and I will toughen up."

Jet simply nodded, stepping back just a bit so that she wouldn't get emotional and hug him again. it wasn't that he had a grudge against her for that, but it was just weird, and Avni seemed to get it too, for she quickly apologised for it. He nodded again, and turned to walk away. What had he been looking for in the first place?

"Hungry, Jet?"

He nodded again as she joined him.

"Come on, let's find the kitchen."

* * *

**Belladonna "Bell" Betony, 18**

**District Eleven Female**

* * *

Bell was, in simple terms, upset.

If a more detailed description was sought, however, Bell could say that she was upset beyond belief, that her heart was aching, yelling at her for being this useless, this idiot, this good-for-nothing person. Her heart that told her that she deserved to be Reaped but not die, that she deserved to win this cruel yet prized trophy, that she would never have the courage to volunteer and make a name for herself. There were other ways to become famous and important, but her heart, her heart that hurt so much, firmly believed that a fight in a deathmatch was the best among them. One could say that her mind had convinced her heart to feel that way now that she was heading for this deathmatch already, and she laughed out. She laughed aloud, her high-pitched voice ringing in the otherwise silent compartment. She cried too, her tear-ducts extra active in this moment of grief and mourning and relief and everything else she felt, feelings she wasn't quite aware of. So yes, Belladonna was acting like her talented self, multitasking by crying and laughing at the same time, holding her head rather dramatically.

However, inside her heart, her heart that was _torturing_ her with feelings, she knew she was the most upset because none of her friends visited her after she was Reaped. Not. A. Single. One. She should have had known, known all along, that they were not her real friends. Now that she thought about them, they barely ever talked to _her._ They talked to literally anyone and everyone but her, and this thought made her sob again, before making her chuckle. So what if her friends did not show up? so what if they did not care? So what if everyone seemed to have given up on her? _She_ had not given up on herself. _She _was going to fight for herself. _She_ was going to make _herself_ proud.

"Belladonna, you aren't eating."

Bell was snapped out of her thoughts. She was on the train, the very elaborate train that still lacked in glory, sitting at a table, a bowl of porridge resting in front of her. She recoiled at the scene. And then she recalled that it was the porridge that had reminded her of her breakfast, which had been porridge, and that had led her down this lane of feelings and heart ache.

On the train to the Capitol… she had expected better food. She had heard stories about how lavish the food was on the train, how delicious, but what she had received was a bowl of porridge. She clenched her teeth in frustration; even the Capitol was discriminating against her.

"I want roasted chicken."

"We don't have that."

"Chicken curry."

"No."

"Pancakes."

"Belladonna," their escort, Esther said firmly in her strange, foreign accent, "This porridge is all there is. It's up to you whether you want to eat it."

Bell stared at her with wide eyes, mouth agape. She _dared_ to talk to her this way?! How could she?! She was not going to settle for the lesser things! Lesser love, lesser friends and now lesser food. Surprising even herself, Belladonna flipped the bowl over, the food falling down on the table, slowly dripping off the edge onto the blue velvet carpet.

"Belladonna!" Esther exclaimed angrily, jumping on her feet, even as Bell did the same, glaring hard. What was she going to do, eh? Start the Hunger Games on the train itself? Well, Belladonna Betony was not going to tolerate this kind of behaviour any longer. As Esther opened her mouth to yell at her further, Bell picked up the empty bowl and threw it at her angrily, narrowly missing, and the bowl shattered as it fell on the floor with a shattering sound, tearing the silence apart like a worn out cloth.

Ester stared at her in shock even as Bell folded her arms across her chest, the tears having dried on her cheeks, and the remnants of them stinging at her eyes. She was not going to back down under the murderous look that Esther gave her. She was not going to buckle under the fear of these 'Five', whoever they were. She was not going to be treated like trash. Even as Esther continued to glare, Bell rested her hand on the table in rage. Would she still glare if Bell flipped the table on her and 'accidentally' injured her? She smirked as the thought crossed her mind. It was so tempting, and Bell so wanted to have a laugh right now, after the traumatic event of being Reaped. She tightened her grip on the edge of the table as the two females continued their glaring match. Should she throw it now? Should she throw it at all?

Just as she was about to flip the table in the hopes that the remaining wo bowls of porridge would empty their contents on this petty woman who called herself their escort, a firm hand grasped her wrist and pulled it away rather forcefully from the table. Bell was shocked at this treatment, and she just stared with her mouth wide open, and Basileus Paladino pushed her so hard that she stumbled backwards, slipped on her own steps, and fell down thankfully on a couch and not the floor.

"What on earth?!" she cried out as he stepped towards her.

"I've had enough of your drama and your pettiness, Betony," he growled at her, his own eyes ignited by the flames of rage he felt, "Better behave yourself."

"Excuse me?!" Bell exclaimed, "_I'm_ dramatic and petty? _You_ volunteered to a death match! You caused all that drama to get some limelight! And you call me dramatic and petty! Hypocrite!"

"SILENCE!"

"YOU SHUT UP!"

And Bell was on her feet again, stomping over to Basileus Paladino, inches away from him. who did he think he was, pushing her around so literally?! Why was he getting in her matter?! Why couldn't he just get lost?!

"Don't annoy me Betony. Eat what you're given and stop complaining."

"Who are you? Their dog?"

Basileus pushed her again rather hard, so hard that she fell on her backside on the floor, grazing her palm in the process somehow. Belladonna looked up furiously as Esther intervened, trying to calm down Basileus, telling him 'this girl is not worth it.' and pulling him away from Bell. The girl from Eleven watched in rage, her chest heaving as her breathing became ragged, eyes wide in anger and she screamed as they left her there.

"I'LL GET YOU PALADINO! I'LL KILL YOU IN THE ARENA EVEN IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"

* * *

**Cruxia Marshall, 18**

**District Four Female**

* * *

Cruxia found the situation on the train to be quite…distasteful.

She had heard tales of grandeur and beauty, of the Capitol's hospitality and helpful nature, but she was right in her initial thoughts about the Games not being as great as the ones under the Capitol. Firstly, they had _no _mentors. Secondly, the escort was useless. He had no idea how the whole thing worked, and no interest in trying to help. As for the servants that were supposed to wait on them the whole time… they were absent. There were Peacekeepers around to see that nobody fled, and Cruxia didn't see why they were needed on a District Four train, but maybe the Five expected trouble. Considering this whole competition was a prestigious event, a matter of great pride, Cruxia was not particularly happy with how the Five and their foreign lapdogs were handling the affairs of Panem's culture and traditions.

She sighed slowly, lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling of her four-poster bed. At least the bed was comfortable and she could allow herself to relax just a bit. She pulled the sheets over her absently, thinking about her life back home. Everyone would be cheering there, waiting for them to arrive in the Capitol, waiting for the chariot rides. However, Cruxia was not sure whether there would be any parade after all. The whole event was so _dry_ that she couldn't help but think they would remove another part of the Games tradition. Why were they doing it in the first place if they did not wish to do it properly? Cruxia did not know and she did not think anybody could truly answer her question. She _was_ glad that she had a chance to be competing in the Games, to earn honour for her District and for herself, but she wished things would have been the way they were earlier. The whole thing was done so dully this year that Cruxia couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

And this disappointment led to the emotion she was all too familiar with- anger. Her fists curled around the sheets as she stared at the ceiling. _Why_ did these people have to mess with tradition when they did not know how to handle it?! She was angry not because they had wronged her, but because she _felt_ as if they had wronged all the Career districts. She _felt_ as if they were incapable, and this incapability would in turn lower the honour of anyone who won these Games, that they wouldn't be at par with the previous victors. She _felt_ betrayed, although she could not really explain why, and she gritted her teeth. She knew she should not get angry, being angry would get her nowhere, but she could not help it at all. Back when acquaintances did not greet her in return, she became angry. When people did not respond on time, she became angry. Anything happening as it shouldn't happen made her angry. Cruxia never really showed her anger, for she knew that sometimes she was being unreasonable, and sometimes it just wasn't worth it. she liked being positive, because positivity could help people get far, but it was hard to do.

And now she was angry again, angry at the way things were conducted, not being up to mark to the Career standards, even further from the Capitol standards. She was not a fan of the Capitol, instead she found them ignorant, but they knew how to do things well.

The Games were Games only under the Capitol.

She let out a frustrated groan and sat up. Now that she was angry, she could not force herself to go to sleep in any way. She stood up rather hastily, and started pacing the floor, thinking of the Academy. She kind of missed training at this point, for training would not only calm her down but also help her improve, and she was of firm belief that everyone should continuously strive to improve themselves. The thought made her stop as a question crawled into her mind. What if the training centre in the Capitol was not equipped enough, not adequate enough? What if the trainers were not capable enough? That would not do at all, not at all… Looking at how the Five were performing up till now, she had very low expectations. Cruxia was not even expecting a facility as good as the one back home in all honesty, and that made her even more frustrated.

So she walked and walked and walked in that tiny room that was hers, all hers, the only place that looked as if it had retained its former glory. She wondered whether there was a training facility on the train, but decided that was too far-fetched. And thus, without even realising it, she started spot jogging, stretching, doing anything to make her body feel active. She was exercising hard now, sweat dripping off her face and limbs and chest, and she felt better. She continued working out, glad that she'd not had supper yet, when there was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said, stopping and looking up with a smile, at Nereus Naga. He took one look at her and realised what she was doing, and smiled back at her.

"Missing training already?"

"Kind of," she shrugged, "How about you?"

"Things… are a little different from what I had heard."

"Yeah. I wish they were how they were supposed to be."

"Exactly."

Cruxia politely invited Nereus in for it was rude to keep someone waiting at the doorway for long. However, he was not really there to talk to her.

"Well, dinner's ready and we're requested there."

"Oh alright. Coming right away."

"I'll wait for you," Nereus said, "I kind of don't want to go there. His presence is rather off-putting."

"That is quite true," Cruxia sighed, glad that he agreed with her. She was right; she wasn't the only one disappointed.

"Well then, I'll just come in a bit."

"Sure."

And Cruxia shut the door lightly, walking into her bathroom to wash herself before dinner. She was kind of hungry right now, and she hoped that dinner would be better than lunch. The lunch had been insufficient for her trained body, and she hoped things would be better at least for supper.

Well, she wasn't hopeful.

* * *

**That's the first train rides! It was supposed to have four POVs but I'll stick to three for this chapter. Let me know what you think, I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Also, submissions for Sinners and Saints is open, so I hope to see you there!**

**Have a great day!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Train Rides**

* * *

**Dekker Mattson, 17**

**District Five Male**

* * *

Dekker did not want to open his eyes.

It was a hard task, forcing oneself out of the dysania that he felt. It was not that he was sleepy, for he had not really been able to sleep soundly last night despite the innumerable comforts showered on him. he was just finding it difficult to get out of bed, the four-poster bed that seemed to be the only source of comfort in this wretched situation. Dekker had, after all, imagined a lot of heinous situations on multiple occasions, for Panem was just that kind of a place, but never had he imagined that the Games would be reinstated and _he_ would be the first tribute from his District for this revamped version of this atrocity. Usually, Dekker believed in working to achieve his goals, working _hard_, but surviving the Games was not a general goal, nor a general situation. He needed time to accept that he had been Reaped.

And truth be told, that was exactly what Dekker did not want to accept.

So he just stayed in bed, his eyes shut, the darkness threatening to consume him. And yet, he _desired_ to be consumed by this darkness, for the darkness at least had a fake light of hope that he was probably dreaming, having a nightmare so terrifying that it felt real. He was aware that, when he would open his eyes, that false hope would leave him too, and the light of the day would cloud his heart with true and lasting darkness. Hence, he remained still, still as a _corpse,_ but Dekker chided himself for thinking that particular thought. No, he was still as a _rock_, not a _corpse,_ and he tried to find withing himself the strength of the same rock, the strength that would help him survive… and kill.

Dekker was a man of character. Hurting others, killing… he had no idea how he could go about it. Had he ever intentionally hurt anyone? No. Could he kill? That was the question, the question he knew he had to ask himself, but he was not ready quite yet. When would he be ready? He had no answer to that question, for that was the question he wanted to avoid with all his will. He was in this bed, eyes shut, blocking out all the urgency, for he did not want to address the issue. There were a lot of questions actually, a lot on the line, but he was not ready, not ready, not ready…

The knock on his door was startling, and he almost jarred out of bed. However, following the initial discomfort at the abrupt sound, he pulled the sheets back on over his body, not willing to let go of the wonderful warmth that surged through his veins, the comfort of the sheets almost trapping him lovingly. Dekker refused to open his eyes even then, and let out a grunt when there was another knock.

"Dekker," Titania's voice floated in through the crack between the door and the floor, "It's time for breakfast."

Dekker was tempted to tell her that he wasn't interested, that being in his bed was far more important for his body than the food she was providing him with, the kind he could have gotten at home as well. He remained quiet though, for it did not feel worthwhile saying anything. Why would Titania care? She was as bad as the Capitolites, worse even, for they at least pretended to care.

"Dekker, come out. It's time we discuss how to go about things."

And it was this sentence, this mere sentence that was loaded with all the irony of the mighty and vast universe, that made Dekker laugh out loud, his eyes flying open at last. He remembered clearly how Titania had dismissed both him and Nell the previous day, telling them she had other things to do, important things, and there was nothing to discuss. And here she was, on this fine morning, knocking on his door as if she was his biggest well-wisher in this entire world.

"Dekker!"

The boy sighed to himself, the idea of getting out of bed still morbid, but now his eyes were open, and he could feel the sunlight from the cracks between the curtains. The sun was warming his skin further, and he sat up slowly, trying to convince his mind to force his body on his own two feet.

There was another knock, much softer this time, and instead of Titania's bossy tone, Nell's concerned voice pierced through the cracks.

"Dekker, are you okay?"

The boy sighed to himself as he set his feet on the floor, still not having gotten up. Nell, poor Nell. She had been nice to him despite the trauma she might be going through, being Reaped at the tender age of twelve. Yet, she had more sense than Titania, was far more collected than their escort cum mentor, and right now, was the one who was worried despite Dekker being her competition in this game for survival. He shook his head adamantly at that thought, for he did not want to ponder over the thoughts of the Game and death at this time of the day, and with a gigantic effort, forced himself out of his bed, away from the warmth and the comfort. He started walking almost mechanically, and as he reached the door, he was tempted to just go back, his hand resting loosely on the handle.

"Dekker, are you okay? Say something!"

He sighed to himself again and then turned the handle, pulling it towards himself, the door swinging inwards. Nell looked relieved to see him okay, and Dekker was surprised to see that she had already showered and changed. The girl looked solemn, and as the boy turned his gaze to the woman behind her, he felt himself scowling at this joke of a mentor.

"You took your sweet time."

Dekker did not grace her with a response, and simply ignored her, turning his gaze to Nell, who beckoned at him to follow her to the breakfast table. Nodding, he started walking after her, pushing Titania on the way with his shoulder.

Now that he was up, he was ready to discuss the competition and how to deal with it.

* * *

**Estefania "Cupid" Sanchez, 18**

**District Eight Female**

* * *

Cupid held the spoon in her hand delicately, twirling it between her thumb and index finger, looking at her bowl of soup with such an intense concentration that it was comparable to a scientist studying their experiment. In reality, she wasn't looking at it at all; she was lost in deep thought, thoughts of her life back home, her friends, her band, the numerous people she had helped in finding love. She twirled the spoon some absently, dropping it into the bowl, the soup rising up in a splash, but she took no heed. The movement of the contents of the bowl reflected on her own turmoil, the fact that she was Reaped hitting her hard. She was not in denial; in contrary to that, she was fully aware of her situation, mentally prepared too. However, no amount of mental preparedness was enough to make her feel a particular way, make her feel optimistic, and she was, indeed, sad.

The thought that currently occupied her usually vibrant but currently gloomy mind was that she would never find love. This truth, this one single truth hit her so hard that she was tempted to break into tears, tempted to run to her room and bury her face, a usually smiling face, into the pillow, and allow this same face to break her smile and cry and howl. A smile was a person's best ornament, but Cupid saw no reason to wear it. In the most likely scenario, she was going to die, and she would die unloved. The person who had worked for years to give happiness to people around her, to fill their lives with love and joy, about to die without the same. And the irony was so great that Cupid finally sobbed, a soft one, but a sob nonetheless.

She stopped herself from repeating the action for she aware of the eyes on her, and she knew she needed to look strong. Who knew, maybe there were cameras there, recording her actions, people judging her for the moment of weakness, family and friends worrying back home. Usually train events were not broadcasted to the public, but Cupid could never be too sure. Hence, she tried to calm herself down and took hold of her spoon again, turning it in circles in the bowl, but otherwise not touching the soup. It would turn cold soon, just as her blood had, and Cupid bit her lip anxiously. This would not do, not do at all. She had to get a hold of herself! Stop with her self-pity!

That was easier said than done.

"You need to eat in order to build your strength," Selina said, her brown eyes looking at her kindly, "Do you want me to cook something else for you, dear?"

"No, no, this is fine," Cupid muttered, kind of flustered. Selina had been nothing but kind to both her and Kespar all this while. She had talked them into watching the Reapings, and despite having the orders to cut on the extravagance, had done whatever she could to make them comfortable. Cupid appreciated her mentor's gesture, and it was only then when she took her first spoonful of soup, the dish still warm if not completely hot.

However, Cupid could not really force herself to be hungry, no matter how much she tried. Her appetite was dead, the way she would be after a few days.

_Shut up!_

She was tired of her own thoughts now, for she was not used to this amount of negativity. She could not help it though, her heart was still beating a little faster, she was still breathing a little harder, as her entire being was struggling against the situation she was thrown in, the situation nobody deserved to be in. She set down her spoon again, not even bothering to look at the other food items on the table, and turned to her District Partner, the boy who had been oddly calm about this whole deal. He was shaken up on the stage earlier, but now it seemed that he had not only accepted the situation, but was also planning in his head accordingly. He was quiet, and Cupid had noticed that he hadn't said anything much at all, and she found that to be pretty astounding. She hadn't spoken much either, something that was just strange for her, but her quietness was out of gloom and hopelessness, whereas his silence came from a calm mind.

They were not similar.

"What's the matter, Estefania?" Kespar asked, finally looking at her fully in the face, and Cupid frowned.

"It's Cupid."

Kespar did not respond for a while, to the point that Cupid thought that he was being disrespectful on purpose. Then, he nodded slowly, and said, "Alright, Cupid. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Cupid sighed, "Just… I can't believe this happened."

Kespar let out a dry, mirthless laugh, surprising both Cupid and Selina, the two females looking at him quizzically. He stopped and sighed, a small frown on his face as he looked at them.

"I had an intuition it would be me. I was getting really paranoid a few days back. Call it sixth sense or something, but turns out it was right."

"Damn. That sucks bro."

"Big time," Kespar replied, his eyes moving to the wooden table, as if studying the patterns on the oakwood keenly, probably lost in some thought. Cupid wondered how she would have felt about being Reaped if she had had an intuition of this kind. Not too great, she assumed. However, probably she would have been more prepared, more accepting… Not that she hadn't accepted her situation, she certainly had, but it was still tough dealing with it. Despite being much younger, Kespar appeared to be doing much better than her.

"It really sucks," Selina said, making them both jump, for they had temporarily forgotten that she was there too, a foreigner amongst the tributes, an alien to their grief. And yet, she looked as if she could understand and empathise, as if she wanted to help.

"I need to ask you guys this question," she started, looking sadly at them both, but smiling just a bit encouragingly, this action making Cupid smile as well, "Do you want to be trained together or separately?"

"Separately," Kespar answered even before Cupid could open her mouth to respond. Their eyes met, and Cupid saw nothing in them, even as Kespar turned back to look at Selina.

And Cupid knew she shouldn't feel about it, he had all the right to train alone without explaining himself, but she was hurt that he wouldn't want to train together.

Well, she would have to make do with her own company for the time being…

* * *

**Aron Rail, 14**

**District Six Male**

* * *

Aron saw Akira.

Akira saw Aron.

Their eyes met, and everything came into place.

Aron was aware that Akira knew that he was the guy she had robbed in broad daylight, the guy she had made a mockery of, the guy she might have had laughed at. However, Akira did not know that the same guy had avenged himself, the same guy had robbed her in the darkness of the night, made a mockery of _her_, and was the one laughing in the end. Until now, that was, because they were both headed towards an almost certain demise.

When they had boarded the train the previous day, Akira had laughed sheepishly at him. Even when the fear of the Games loomed over them, the girl had quickly rushed to her room and changed into the most elegant dress Aron had seen in his life, a pale blue gown that fell down in waves, pairing it with a pearl necklace, and despite the situation Aron couldn't help but wonder _why_ anyone would want to dress up like that on a train, where there was nobody to impress.

And then she had _twirled_ in that dress, smiling at him as if giving him a grimace, and Aron cringed at that quite visibly. No person, when being sent to be slaughtered, would behave in such an obnoxious fashion, the demeanour not meant for the sane people. Although, Aron wondered, could Akira really be called sane?

And then, she plopped down dramatically next to him, grinning.

Aron had no words to describe how he felt. From living on the streets to working with the drug lords, the young boy of fourteen had seen it all. He had narrowly escaped deaths and punishments, and had stayed with his twin throughout the toughest of ordeals, and now when his brother was not there with him, he was having to tolerate this girl. Aron could not bring himself to think straight, or think at all, for she was batting her eyelashes at him, and he recoiled from her, moving to the very edge of the sofa.

"Now that's not polite at all!" she exclaimed.

"You stealing my money wasn't polite either," Aron retorted.

And that was what had made Akira shut up.

However, these events had occurred the previous day, when the sadness and the shock were more prevalent, and the acceptance of an almost certain death sentence was low. This morning, it was high, and Aron had just finished watching the Reapings again, making mental notes of the competition, especially the Careers. Aron had no reason to believe that his young age would prove to be a hindrance in the arena; children far younger than him had won before, taken down mighty brutes from One and Two and Four with their wits and grit, and Aron had been in situations far more dangerous than most other tributes would have been. He intended on making the best use of his experiences in District Six in the arena, whatever it might be.

"Aron!"

And from nowhere, for Aron could swear there had been nobody around him a millisecond ago, somebody threw their arms around him, taking him down on the couch with a loud yelp, and it took all of Aron Rail's willpower to not punch Akira Tuktuk on that pretty face of hers. He pushed her back hard, but she was adamant about not releasing him, holding onto him tightly.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out, sobbing, and Aron could feel something wet dropping onto his shoulder, probably her fake tears, "I shouldn't have had robbed you this way! I'm so sorry!"

The younger boy found it demeaning to himself to respond to such a fake apology. After all, he had been put into a grave danger by her selfish act, and he had no inclination to actually forgive her, especially after what she was doing to him, hugging him forcefully like that. He pushed her again, but to no avail, and so he resorted to the second option he saw at hand, the option he should have had exercised a while ago now, and he stomped hard on her soft foot, making her yell in anguish, which led her to release him rather unwillingly. The younger boy utilised the opportunity immediately and pushed her away, making his way over to the other side of the compartment, keeping a safe distance between them.

"Stay away from me!"

"Come _on!_" Akira whined, pouting ever so slightly, her red lips curling in an almost adorable way, and in spite of himself, Aron blushed just a bit, choosing that moment to look away, coughing some. He was quite pretty, after all, and she looked even better in those Capitol clothes, but Aron would never admit it for that would mean encouraging behaviour like hers. And filth like that should not be encouraged at any cost. For yes, her demeanour was filthy. She stole people's money by embracing them, what self-respecting person did that?

"Dude!" she exclaimed as he stood away from her, still wary, eyes darting for something to throw at her if she came near him, "Look, I robbed you, and that was wrong. I admit it, and I'm sorry! But please understand, I needed that money!"

Aron rolled his eyes at her pathetic explanation, and was about to comment on her 'needs' being just a trip to the salon, a completely worthless expense in his humble opinion, when he recalled that Akira was not aware that he had already avenged himself, that he had not only taken his own money back but also stolen that which was hers, and firmly believed that a person like her deserved it. So, he kept shut, choosing instead to glare at her, in an attempt to intimidate this idiot.

"You know," Akira sighed, fumbling with her fingers now, her dark eyes focused on the blue carpet now as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, and probably it was for her, the witch who lived for the luxuries, "I got robbed the same night I robbed you."

Aron raised his brows at her, smirking just a bit, as if to tell her that she deserved this punishment for her horrible deeds, and this action made Akira lower her head even further. No way was he going to give her any sign that he was behind it, for where was the fun in that? Let her be pathetic for a while longer.

"So…I'm really sorry."

"It's alright," Aron replied, surprising even himself, but an idea was forming in his wicked mind already. Akira was smart when it came to money and luxury, but was otherwise quite gullible, and it made her quite an interesting specimen. This combination, the pairing of the most contradictory traits, might actually help him if he could just utilise it…

"Let bygones be bygones," he said, a soft smile on his face, "Will you like to ally with me?"

And her face beamed with relief as she nodded at him, so happy she was to hear those words that she ran to embrace him again, and Aron had to stop her from violating his personal space. Apart from that horrible habit though, he imagined he could handle this girl pretty well.

At least, that's what he hoped.

* * *

**Hi! This is the last train rides chapter, and I hope you guys liked it! Do drop in a review about your thoughts on the chapter, and any other feedback you'd like to give. Next chapter, we'll be in the Captol. **

**Have a great day!**


	16. Chapter 16

**The Parade**

* * *

**Dakota Neenah, 15**

**District Nine Female**

* * *

Dakota had failed rather miserably in recognising her District Partner, but fortunately for her, he did not make the same mistake.

"It's you!" he had exclaimed after taking a closer look of her young face once they had boarded the train, surprise so evident in his eyes, as she could tell by the way he widened them. Dakota had no idea whatsoever as to who she was according to this strange boy in his lavish clothes; she recognised neither the face nor the attire of this person. All she knew was that she was devastated to be chosen, chose to fight to the death, and she wanted some space and time to grieve.

"It is me?" she replied nonchalantly, raising a brow quizzically, but then the former frown replaced that look on her face, and she sighed deeply, sitting down in a chair, holding her head. Usually, she would talk to this stranger who claimed to know her, probably even have some fun, but she was heartbroken at this point. She was going to the _Games_. The mere thought of having to kill, or worse, _being_ killed, made her throat arid with each passing second, and her dark eyes welled up with tears, stinging. They did not trickle down, just rested painfully on her lower lids, and she shut her eyes, trying to process everything that was happening, the fact that she could _die._

"I'm the skeleton," Kai muttered, and that made Dakota open her eyes, looking at him carefully. She looked confused, as if she had not expected such a statement. After all, what kind of person would walk up to a girl and tell her that he was a skeleton? Didn't all people have skeletons?

"I'm sorry, what?"

At her simple and innocent question, Kai looked quite amused while looking surprised as well; a reaction she had neither anticipated nor wanted to see. He sat down across from her, legs crossed over, arms folded across his chest, leaning back into the chair and wearing that haughty look on his face that Dakota could just tell he prided himself on.

"We met at the Haunted House."

For a second, Dakota's mind failed to make sense of that peculiar sentence. Haunted House? Skeleton? Dakota did not want to bother herself too much at the moment to dig through her vast library of memories, but then she thought it would be rude to ignore her Partner in this way, despite how distressed she felt. So, she racked her brains and thought hard, trying to keep the extremely negative thoughts away, and she recalled that she had visited the Haunted House, sneaking in with her sister without a ticket, and had met a most handsome skeleton…

Kai was that skeleton.

"So…" she said, giggling a little, "You're _Skaileton_?"

And it was this ability to joke in adverse situations, this innocent giggle that tried to erase the grief from her heart, that made Kai chuckle lightly too. In any other situation, he would have called out on this poorly formed yet smartly made joke, that too made on him, but right now he was in too much trauma himself to fight over it. So, unsurprisingly, Kai had offered her a light smile and then walked away to his own room on this extravagant train.

At this moment in time, however, Dakota was physically occupied with a rather daunting task of sitting still, even if her mind was wandering in some other time and space. The prepping team surrounded her, all solemn in expression and brisk in their movements, efficiently styling her hair into a high bun, something Dakota felt did not look as good on her as her open hair would, but she kept shut. None of these people had said a word to her, unless it was to do something, but Dakota was too terrified and upset to think much about her outfit, a long flowing gown the shade of the starry night, except that the stars were red little apple prints, noticeable only upon taking a close and scrutinising look. They had applied really light makeup on her, the kind that only made her natural features stand out a little more, the kind that made her look classy. Well, the outfit was much classier and prettier than the trash that tributes were made to wear year after year. Yet, she could just tell it costed much lesser than those clothes had, due to the flashier, bizarre items that were used to make them. This time, the dress felt like a _dress_, and Dakota was glad for a moment that at least she wouldn't look like an idiot in front of the whole nation. Post that optimistic thought, she recalled why she was there in the first place, and concluded that nobody in the whole nation actually cared for how she looked and most would just give her pitiful looks for her pitiable state, and that thought succeeded well in activating her tear ducts, for a tear trickled down her right cheek slowly. Something soft brushed against her cheek roughly, wiping away the sign of her grief and she heard her prep team sigh.

"Please don't do that again," one of the women said, forcing herself to be polite and sounding anything but, "We'll have to redo your eyes and cheek and it's messy to do that again. we're running out of time."

"Exactly. You're expected soon."

Upon hearing these cold words, they hitting her mind like a block of ice, Dakota couldn't help herself. Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes, her eyes that always defied impositions, did that very thing again, shedding pearls, and she could feel someone's grip on her shoulder tighten as the tears fell. Dakota was aware that she was about to be reprimanded now that she had dared to cry, but she was a free spirit, and a free spirit would never bow down to such ridiculous demands.

"Wow, doing the exact opposite of what I said!"

"You don't want to survive girl?"

"Shut up," Dakota snapped, her voice low, eyes fiery, threatening to burn them all, "You do what you have to. I'll do what I have to."

It was no surprise that, post this statement, the prep team stopped its job and simply left the room, leaving Dakota all alone with her face stained with tears and the eyeliner. Dakota, on her part, did not care about how she looked, and would wear her tear stained face with pride.

The Five deserved to know, after all, that she was not happy with their treatment.

* * *

**Ark Zagog, 12**

**District Seven Male**

* * *

Ark had absolutely no shame in admitting that he was petrified, that he couldn't really see anything good come out of his situations, and there was little hope for him.

He tapped his foot lightly as he waited in the grand hall where all the tributes had gathered, the chandelier overhead casting a false positive glow on everyone present, giving the incorrect impression that everything was okay. Ark was sitting on a leather sofa, his lime green tuxedo a bit too tight for his comfort, and he was appalled at the fact that he actually looked quite nice. His wide eyes had trouble staying focused on just one object, and they tried to take in everything they possibly could, his little body tensed as if he would be attacked at any moment. The parade, as they were calling it instead of chariot rides, was about to start in a while, and a lot of tributes were trying to mingle with each other, while some were conversing with their mentors instead, and there were others, like Ark, who were just trying to hide from everyone's penetrating glare. It was almost as if people could learn all about him if he socialised too much, this was the Games after all, and everyone could and would use that against him.

Ark was in no way naïve. He knew people could get cruel, and in this situation, could he even blame them? Not really. This was a life and death scenario, and Ark was no fool. He planned on surviving, on living, but he simply could not bring himself to face the reality courageously. He was afraid of death, afraid of the unknown, afraid of what an ending meant, and as he fumbled with his fingers, tapping his foot restlessly, he did the only thing he could do to prepare himself.

He listened.

Whatever anyone thought of the tiny boy, he was quite observant, something that just wasn't evident when one would give him a first glance. He looked at the Careers, who were too far away from him, but they had all assembled together. Ark frowned when he saw the boy from Eleven joined them too, all of them talking…happily. It was this behaviour, this mentality, that disgusted Ark. All the future killers whose ream was to become killers had assembled together to decide who they were going to kill before they decided to kill each other. It was low, it was disgusting, and it was what would probably make one of them win.

"I can't believe they put on all this show to kill people," he heard Jet mutter.

"Humans can be the worst monsters ever," Avni replied, and after that the pair from Ten became silent.

Ark closed his eyes now, trying to listen to people who were standing away from him, tributes who were conversing amongst each other in tones that were low, unwilling to be heard by anyone else lest they decided to use them. Ark was, after all, in a corner, sitting away from the rest, but he could pick up voices…

"They ae apparently messing up all the traditions. I wonder what the parade will be like?"

"Anyone you think you need to look out for?"

Ark clenched his fists then, trying to listen really hard. He did not know who was speaking, but he needed to get the input on who was a threat other than the Careers. He bent forward a little, trying to hang onto each word.

"Apart from the Careers? The pair from Twelve looks strong. The boy from Five does too."

"I think the girl from Ten looks strong as well."

"Nah, she looks like a weakling."

Before Ark could catch on to more words, information that he could process, the hidden speakers in the hall boomed, and the sudden loud sound made Ark jump. He was afraid of uncountable things, and sudden loud sounds were at the top of the list. Hence, when an announcement was made in the most robotic voice that he had ever heard, he resisted with all his willpower, all his strength, to cover his ears. He wanted Nathan with him, his elder brother who always held him whenever he was scared. Never had he imagined that Nathan would be absent when he would be going through another fear, another moment of darkness, and Ark's lower lip trembled slightly. His eyes a little wet, even as the announcement was made for the tributes to step outside the Grand Hall, in order of their districts. Ark stayed rooted to the spot for a second too long, unwilling to move, when he felt a soft hand take his.

He looked up to see a girl who was probably around his age, wearing a cute black dress that seemed to be moving with programming codes, a concerned look in her large eyes.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah."

"It's time to go. do you want me to help you find your Partner?"

"No it's fine. I'll manage."

"Alright."

The girl withdrew her hand but didn't leave, her eyes innocent and worried, and that was probably what motivated Ark to get up and look for Calista. It was then that Cat Doyle gave him an encouraging smile, a smile that only Nathan ever gave him, and walked towards her District Partner.

It was not hard finding Calista, even if it was she who actual found him, and then she was leading him wordlessly through this maze of people so much bigger than him in size, he feeling puny with each passing second, and he was overwhelmed by the loud fireworks, this time unable to keep himself from covering his ears in fright, freezing where he was. Somebody was pulling him, he did not know who, but his legs complied with whoever it was, and he was soon in a large indoor stadium of sorts, the kind used for fashion shows or some function, but so huge that Ark could see no end to it, although it could also be partially blamed on the darkness. He bit his lip as he steeled himself to go through all the noise as he saw the seats were completely filled up with people who looked astonishingly normal; no weird hair colours, no weird clothes, no aesthetic. Simple, rich people.

It was post that he noticed the black ramp, the ramp that was glowing just a little brighter than the stars that must be in the sky outside, reflecting off the dim light of the room in the most efficient way. Ark and Calista were ushered away from other tributes, and that was when he realised that all the District pairs were being assigned platforms by the circular ramp, and that they had to step onto the ramp when given the word. Ark's head was spinning, this was too much for the poor boy. He would have been nervous during the chariot rides too, but standing on a circularly moving ramp, with all these solemn and important looking people staring at him, was somehow even worse.

Hence, it was Calista who helped him get on the platform, waiting for the word to start.

And as another announcement was made, Ark could feel his knees go weak with nervousness and fear, but he clenched his fists and refused to show how frightened he was. Everyone was watching, everyone… And Ark thought of Nathan, of how he hugged him whenever he was frightened.

He was ready.

* * *

**Margaery Goldman, 18**

**District One Female**

* * *

Margaery was not too bothered by the new arrangements in the Parade.

After all, the Chariot Rides served to present the tributes to the nation, especially the potential sponsors, so Marge was not concerned with the change in this tradition, the ramp walk in which they weren't really required to walk. They just had to stand in their fashionably designed outfits, and Marge personally thought they looked much better than the outfits that were usually there. She and Jupiter were wearing matching suits, dark brown suits that had their names emblazoned on them with gold linings. Margaery was somewhat concerned as to how they knew she wouldn't like a dress without even meeting her; she and Nell were the only girls in suits. Her hair was flowing down her right shoulder, and she smiled brightly at the crowd. Jupiter, on his part, was smiling lightly too, both of them waiting for the ramp to start moving.

They had talked on the train about the angle they were going to play, and Margaery hoped it would work. There were a lot of angles that had been at play earlier, the least favourite of hers being the fake romance. Then there were people who played cool, or who waved their hands at the crowd to show they were delighted when they were anything but, and Margaery was sensible enough to understand why they would do it. Her and Jupiter's angle wasn't anything special, but it was different for people from One, and as soon as the ramp started moving, and they started drifting towards the larger crowds, the eyes that were criticising their every move, Margaery and Jupiter too a look at each other, pretending to ignore the crowds, and she was surprised when she saw Jupiter smile, his face even more handsome due to this simple action, and the two gave each other a dramatic fist bump before throwing their arms around each other in a side hug, raising their free arms up in the air, and they hollered like the fun loving Careers they were, or pretended to be, their faces lighting up beautifully in this dim but mystical light, dazzling smiles etched candidly on them. They were not love birds, they were not rigid warriors, they were comrades in battle and fun, they were the 'Bros of District One', and as Margaery showed a victory sign, even the poker-faced audience applauded, cheering them on.

They ramp slid forward, but Margaery refused to let her energy go down. Once the semi-circle was completed, the two released each other and grabbed each other's, before raising them up together a if declaring each other and themselves the champions of the tournament. Of course, Margaery had no intention of letting anyone get even close to winning the Games, but one had to put up a show for the crowds, and that was what she and Jupiter were doing. She knew that Jupiter had no attachment for her, and she for him, but that did not wipe out the smiles off their faces, for they were honourable competitors. Margaery especially appreciated her District Partner's strength to control his rage; Jupiter was quite well known in One for it. Hence, she tightened her grip of his fingers and raised his hand even higher, for Marge was not someone who would not show her admiration for someone. Jupiter too, looked glad after this, and with each moment, his smile became more and more genuine.

The ramp kept on moving until it simply integrated back into the platform from where they had boarded it, slowing down just a bit. The two raised their hands in greeting at the audience, before giving each other a side-hug and getting back onto their platforms, the uproar of the cheers and applause ringing in their ears, and Margaery smiled as she sat down on a bench away from the ramp, a rather strategic position as she could easily observe the other tributes even when nobody from there could see her, and as Jupiter settled down beside her, the ghost of his smile still lingering on his handsome face, Marge grinned at him.

"We owned it bro," she said, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder, winking, before turning her attention back to the ramp. The cheering was loud for all the Districts, but none as enthusiastic as for theirs. This made her smile even more, even chuckle a bit, even as Josephine and Napoleon joined them, smiling.

"That was a good show out there," Josephine said, and her light smile told Margaery something really important about her. Any other person, a Career especially, would be somewhat put off by someone else performing better, but Josephine's compliment was real, she was not the victim of jealousy and envy, she was a woman of honour, and this was what made Margaery grin even more broadly.

"Thanks dude!"

"Yeah, you guys were great," Napoleon grinned.

While Josephine gave her the vibes that she meant well, Margaery could not say the same for Nate. He looked happy enough with the response he got, but he was already sizing them up, his concern about their apparent popularity carefully hidden behind his smile, but Margaery could sense it. one could call it Career instinct, and some would even call her paranoid, but she was sure that, sooner or later, Nate would create trouble for Jupiter and herself. And that was not something she could afford to have at the moment. She had been preparing for a long time, after all, and a handsome boy in glasses could not create issues for her.

It wasn't time for enmity though, and so she beamed at them, standing up as Jupiter gave her a look as if anticipating some weird antic, but Margaery only gave her allies from Two a hug, placing a hand on each of their shoulder, grinning.

"You guys were great out there too."

"Thanks."

Josephine was about to respond to this when a loud commotion caught everyone's attention, and Marge's eyes darted to the ramp. District Eleven had just completed a quarter of the circle, and Margaery was shocked to see the scene unwrapping before her eyes, for Belladonna Betony had _slapped_ their ally, Basileus Paladino right on the face, and the slap was so strong that he stumbled and fell off the ramp on the polished floor, the impact so loud that Margaery could hear it as if she were right there. Basileus cursed her aloud, jumping to his feet, and the ramp was stopped. Belladonna and Basileus were ushered away from the hall, Peacekeepers and their mentor accompanying them, and Margaery groaned.

"This won't hurt our alliance, right?" Nate wondered.

"We can always oust him," Margaery suggested.

"We won't," Josephine and Jupiter said simultaneously, and their eyes met, a sense of respect in them, a sense of understanding that Margaery did not share with anyone, and Jupiter stood up as the pair from Four approached them too, their faces showing the same question that Nate had voiced on witnessing the humiliating debacle.

Margaery cracked her knuckles with a sigh; a long conversation was coming her way.

* * *

**Here's the parade, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought of it. Also, the Skaileton pun is Shiro's, not mine XD**

**Have a great day!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Trigger Warning: The initial part of Avni's POV has thoughts of self harm. **

**Training Day One**

* * *

**Calista "Cali" Birchwood, 16**

**District Seven Female**

* * *

Calista wanted to do a lot of things in life, but preparing her mind and soul for the Hunger Games was not one of them.

She sat still as a statue at the table, eyes staring into the void, her throat parched. In front of her, unlike the train, there was a lavish spread, but it felt empty and meaningless to her. She didn't think any of it would be delicious, maybe to the tongue but not to the heart, and she simply stared at the wall in front of her, the wall that had tapestries of a feast, and that rekindled the memories of her having dinner with her family. sure, things back home wasn't this grand, nor were there so many delicacies to enjoy, but at least she was with people she loved and cared for, and people who did that for her too. At least she wasn't marching to her own funeral. At least she was _alive _in the truest sense of the word.

But… was she? Had she really been alive all this while? She did not know, and she doubted she would ever have the answer to that particular question. She had, after all, assessed the people during the parade… and the competition was tough. There were those brutal Careers, their spirits unhampered by one year of peace, those Outliers, who looked so angry at the sudden change, as if they would destroy anyone and anything that would come in their path. Then there were the young ones, who refused to cry and remained strong. As such, Calista did not really believe that those who cried were weak, those who showed emotion were weak, but these people had the strength to hide their moments of truth, the truth of their feelings. Well, as far as Calista was concerned, she was doing that quite well too. She had not cried, she had smiled last night during the parade, she had been polite with her mentor and Ark. She was doing a good job at faking her feelings, right? Quite a good job. And yet, her heart ached, her soul wept, and she was not interested in keeping this façade up anymore.

But could she _really _have it any other way?

She did not have the heart to eat anything at all, and the few oranges she'd had at the insistence of her mentor threatened to come out now as regurgitated food. She got up to her feet shakily, refusing to meet the eyes of both Victoria and Ark, who was drinking his glass of pineapple juice rather slowly, and started walking away from the breakfast table. Calista was in a daze of sorts, floating through to her room to change into the training outfit, a green jersey with a large '7' on it and khaki shorts, tied her long hair in a ponytail that was so roughly made one would think she had slept with it, and drifted unseeingly to the elevator. She got in, a strange stiffness in her movements, and she remained still even as the lift doors slid apart again, for she had arrived at her current destination, the place where she was supposed to teach herself how to _kill._

"I think we get out here."

Cali was brought out of her stupor that she hadn't even realised she was in, only to look at the boy from Five, Dekker Mattson, leaning against the wall of the lift, looking at her through half lidded eyes. He bent forward a bit, before standing upright and walking past her, sparing her a fleeting glance, and then nothing. But perhaps, that glance was what Calista needed at the time. Maybe that was what she needed to get herself together, to bring herself out of this trance, to start working. She loathed the situation she was in, for what person would enjoy being sent to a deathmatch? However, she had absolutely no intention of losing, of returning home in a coffin, of her soul listening to the wretched cries of her family and friends. So, she took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly from her mouth, and walked out into the training area.

Despite her mood, she was awe-struck by the grandeur of the training centre. Rows and rows of shelves ran parallelly with each other, they having such assortment of weapons that it stumped Calista. After all, how was it possible for so many kinds of weapons to exist? She saw, to her right, a room with glass doors so clear that it felt there was nothing there, and behind those doors was nothing but a bare room, with something like a bi screen. she wondered what it was for, but did not ponder on it much, for her eyes had flitted over to the stations with various trainers. Some stations had all sorts of plants, some had miscellaneous items that she currently did not know the use of, some had trainers waiting to instruct tributes about combating. Had she not been in the situation she was, Calista would have really appreciated the world class facility, or what would have surely been a world class facility according to her. Presently, however, each weapon seemed to upset her just a bit more than before, and in a couple of minutes she just did not have the heart to look at them at all, so she shut her eyes.

It was time to work _hard_, and that was something Calista Birchwood excelled at.

Due to some involuntary yet natural inclination, she started walking briskly towards the one weapon she was familiar with to some extent. She had no idea what to do or where to start, and it wasn't a surprise that she chose to try her hand at throwing axes. Unlike what the Capitolites assumed about people from Seven, however, they were not good at throwing axes, even less so at throwing axes to kill. Hence, when she gave the activity her first shot, throwing the axe with all her might at a dummy as stationary as any corpse would be, the axe merely skidded on the floor and fell beside the said dummy in a rather pathetic fashion.

She exhaled, bending down to pick up the weapon shakily, and tried again. the result was not much different, the axe landing at the dummy's feet quite innocently. Calista gave it another go, and another, and _another_, but the axe was missing the target every single time, sometimes going too far, sometimes falling to quickly, but never hitting the dummy. It was exasperating, and by now Calista was more furious than upset. She couldn't quit either, for she was no quitter, but she could not deny that this was getting tiring, that she wanted nothing more than to go into her bed and break down, away from the prying eyes of her mentor and the scared ones of Ark.

"I think you should just ask the trainers for help."

Cali turned around to see the girl from Eight standing a few steps away from her, her kind face wearing a sad yet encouraging smile, and despite herself, Calista managed to have a smile of her own too.

"Yeah, maybe that's what I should do…"

But Calista did not want to ask for help. Not from these 'trainers'. They disgusted, the whole system disgusted her, and the fact that these trainers would train every person here to kill everyone else, muttering motivating things to get them going, was something that drove Calista mad. However, she acknowledged that this girl was right, that perhaps she should approach an instructor, even if she did not want to.

"I'm Calista," she said, realising that she had been staring at the girl while thinking, probably making her feel awkward, and thus she brought forward her hand.

"Cupid," the other girl smiled, taking Cali's hand in her own, the grip surprisingly firm, "Calista, would you like to be allies?"

Perhaps, Calista should have thought more on this proposal. Perhaps, she should have been suspicious. But the way Cupid asked her this question, it showed Cali that, if nothing else, this girl was genuine. And that was a big thing in this world and times.

Thus, she nodded with a grin, and gave the only reply that crossed her mind at that moment.

"Yes."

* * *

**Jupiter Aeneas, 18**

**District One Male**

* * *

There were a lot of things happening around him, a lot of Careers surrounding him, but Jupiter Aeneas was missing his family.

He was missing them a lot actually. His mother, his siblings, Evander… he wondered how his family was doing. Were they able to look after themselves properly? Were they healthy? Fine? Jupiter had no way of knowing, and he felt miserable as his thoughts were clouded by their memories. He missed his late father, the man who always wanted to see Jupiter win the Games, win the honour, and while Jupiter was never truly interested in this whole exercise, he hoped with all his heart that he would be proud of his son.

Presently, he was in the centre of the Training Hall, surrounded by his allies, the people that he would have to kill in a few days, the people who would act as his friends up till that point, and then they would fight like hounds, hunt and be hunted, and the fake friendship was starting to make Jupiter nauseous. He took in a deep breath, his temper rising, but he knew he couldn't afford to let himself get carried away, not now, not when he was in such a crucial state like the training. So, he inhaled again, exhaling from his mouth, turning his gaze towards the boy from Five, who was running on the tracks, to the girl from Eight, who was trying to use a crossbow, to the girl from Twelve, who was working with a mace. Looking at all these tributes training made Jupiter frown, for something wasn't right. He did not know what strategies the Careers made other years, nor was he interested to find out. He was concerned about why no one else was concerned that these tributes were getting trained. Did they not know that Outer District kids had won countless times because of the skills they would garner during the training days? Sure, one could argue that three days were quite insufficient for learning a new weapon perfectly, but was perfection really required? Weren't survival skills equally important? Didn't strategy play a pivotal role in deciding a victor?

"What're you thinking, Jupiter?"

The boy from One turned his gaze to meet the worried eyes of the boy from Four, a quizzical look on his handsome face, and Jupiter stepped back just a bit, so that he could look at them all simultaneously and address them all. He would answer Nereus' question, but the answer was not only for him, but for the whole alliance, the alliance that _had_ to dominate the Games, the alliance that he'd have to betray. Jupiter shook his head slightly at that particular thought, for it was not wise to let such thoughts creep into one's mind when one was about to put forth a proposition in front of the people regarding whom those thoughts were. He cleared his throat and looked away for a second, his eyes finding the boy from Twelve trying his hand at a knife. This shouldn't be happening…

"Guys, we did not have the Games for a year in between. As you all know, the Games are back, maybe for political reasons, maybe by a stroke of luck. Since we're seeing a recrudesce of the Games, it's imperative that one of the Careers win this year."

"That's a great pep talk," Josephine cheered.

"Yeah! We got it bro, one of us is going to win this!" Nereus exclaimed.

"Certainly."

Jupiter sighed, and clenched his fists tightly, waiting for the murmur to die down. He had to break it to them, his opinion of what they should do, for he was certain that it was what they had to do to secure a sure-shot win. What _he _had to do to secure a sure-shot victory. Jupiter was not naïve, nor was he delusional enough to underestimate his opponents, even if they were young or Outliers. He knew he had to tread carefully, for he had, by simple observation, deduced that there were members of the alliance who would not agree with his proposal.

However, this was the time to _act._

"As you know, there have been countless times when the Outer District tributes have won," he started, lowering his voice so that only his alliance could hear him, "During these training days, they learn just enough skills to help them survive, and then they play so smartly that they end up winning."

"True."

"What I suggest is that we don't let them train."

The silence that followed his statement was unbearably awkward for even Jupiter, who was used to plenty of awkward situations. The Careers looked from one to the other, then at him, and then back at each other. Jupiter bit his lip, wondering whether they would agree, for what he was asking of them would be considered low for a Career. But was it really the time to uphold moral values and ethics? Jupiter did not believe so, and if alliance wouldn't agree… he would implement this plan anyway.

"You mean… threaten them so that they don't train?" Basileus asked finally, his eyes wide, as if he were shocked even at the thought of this.

"We can…_explain_ to them to not train too much."

"We're _not _doing that," Josephine said firmly, just as Jupiter had expected her to, crossing her arms across her chest, her eyes so calmly furious that for a second Jupiter was tempted to take back his suggestion. But he was not going to step down, not when he knew he was right.

"Let's have a vote," Nereus suggested.

"Cool," Marge said, "I say we do it. Why not weed out the competition in the beginning itself?"

"I don't think we should do it," Cruxia said, speaking probably for the first time ever since they gathered together, "We are honourable fighters. It's just… wrong."

"But why should we let anyone become a threat?" Basileus argued, "I vote yes."

"My vote is no," Nereus added, "They're kids, and they deserve an equal chance."

"So," Jupiter said, folding his arms across his chest, "We have three people supporting this, and three people against it. your vote decides it all, Nate."

Napoleon Walters remained silent even as everyone turned towards him, waiting for his vote. Jupiter did not have much expectation from him, as Nate had already established how caring and soft he was, something that Jupiter could appreciate but not agree with. A Career needed to be tough, be brutal. He himself was least interested in murder but acknowledged that he had to toughen himself up for this. However, most likely he would lose support for his idea among his teammates, for Napoleon would surely refuse…

"I agree with Jupiter. While I do believe that scaring these kids into not training is wrong, I'm here to win this thing."

Jupiter's confused eyes met Nate's soft ones at his words, and he was frustrated to see that he could find nothing in them; no deceit, no strategy, nothing. And this was what had worried Jupiter. The Career from One prided himself in reading people, but he did not know what to make of his ally, the soft Career from Two. His eyes were guarded, revealing nothing, and at that moment Jupiter knew that he had to be particularly careful of this boy.

However, for now it was decided that they would cause mild hinderance in training, nothing too obvious, and weaken the competition from the core.

* * *

**Avni Silvan, 17**

**District Ten Female**

* * *

Avni did not know why she was here in the first place.

No, it was not that she did not love life, or that it had become meaningless. It was true that she was broken, having watched her family being killed in front of her eyes in such a brutal manner that no human deserved it, but she wanted to _live_. For herself, and for them. There were countless dreams that she had seen, countless dreams that she wanted to live, countless dreams she wanted to achieve. But that was not to be.

She recalled, with a vivid clarity, the moment when Barron Marshall had told her that even if she survived the games, she was destined to die because of the current regime. The words had fallen on her ears like a thunderbolt, so loud and terrific that it had threatened to kill her on the spot due to grief. Her heart was a coward though, a bloody coward, and she was beyond angry at herself for not ending it herself. Wouldn't it be easy? She could just drink some poison, let it trickle down her throat lovingly, infecting every cell as it slid down, and kill her in a way that was acceptable to her. And yet, she couldn't find the courage to do it. She did not have the strength to accept this fate. And here she was, at this training centre, her heart beating a little faster, her breathing a little slower, her eyes a little moist, but she was here regardless.

She was just confused about what she should do with the last few days of her short life.

She saw Jet having chosen the tracks, running steadily, his face that of determination and strength, and Avni couldn't help but wonder how he did it… How did he have the strength to bear this injustice, this cruelty? He was so much younger than she was, and probably had a lesser chance of survival than almost everyone else. And yet, he continued, he fought, he tried. Avni had no shame in admitting that Jet was her source of strength ever since they had that chat on the train, for she admired the child with all her heart. Some would think he was rude, some would think he was naïve, but sometimes, a rude awakening was what people truly needed, and Jet could give one that. She smiled lightly, and was surprised to find herself approaching the tracks too, and soon running along with him. He nodded at her without a word, but she did not mind. She had understood that he was a boy of few words, and that was okay.

What was not okay, however, was that when she saw two boys from that large alliance, Careers as they were called, moving towards the boy from Three like predators. On his part, the boy continued practicing with his knife, ignoring the boys who had surrounded him like vultures, for she was sure that he knew that they were there. It was hard to not notice them anyway. Avni had heard tales of these 'Careers', how they formed a group and then took out tributes one by one, like a pack of wolves on a hunt. It disgusted her, and she stopped, looking at them.

"Don't mess with the Careers," Jet said, "Avoid them. They're dangerous."

Dangerous? Avni did not care about dangerous. She motioned at Jet to continue, knowing that he would do exactly that, for he seemed like a person who would avoid trouble. She, on the other hand, watched, just like every other tribute except Jet, the events as they unfolded, and how the boy from Eleven snatched the knife from the boy from Three's hands. They were arguing now, the victim not backing down either, and Avni was horrified at the blatant bullying that was happening, the lack of intervention from the trainers and other tributes, and without realising it, she was drifting towards the group that was fighting. Images flashed in front of her eyes, images of her family being murdered, images of her being tortured, images of the mayor of Ten, Barron Marshall, handing her death sentence to her. Her heart was beating very fast, and Avni was enraged when she saw that the boy from One shoved the boy from Three. The boy from Eleven grabbed his collar, the other hand resting on his shoulder, and he spoke words that Avni could not hear, but she could see the colour draining from the face of the younger boy, until he was as pale as a ghost.

Her hand shot forward, and Avni shocked even herself by pushing the boy from Eleven back, standing like a wall between the two Career boys and the child from Three, and she let out a shaky but angry breath.

"Back off," she muttered, fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, drawing warm blood, the blood that would spill in the arena. But she did not care, all that mattered was that these people were bullies who had absolutely no business threatening another tribute, no business stopping him from training, no business dictating his actions.

"Don't interfere girl."

"Back off."

"You know you're painting a target on your back, right?"

Avni's eyes moved to the boy from One, Jupiter, who had a passive look on his face, as if weighing her, trying to make sense of her, and it was towards him that she walked slowly, eyes not leaving his even for a second, and soon she was so close to him that their faces almost touched. She looked him in the eye even as he stepped back just a bit, eyes astonished at this audacity.

"I'm telling you one last time. Back _off._"

Jupiter did not turn away from Avni, looking down at her, various questions in his eyes that would remain unanswered, and even as Basileus approached Avni to show the brat her place, Jupiter raised a hand to tell him to stop, eyes still not leaving the girl.

"I'll personally come for you in the bloodbath," he finally whispered, his tone dangerously calm, as if he was using all his willpower to control his rage.

And despite the impending death, despite her non-existent future, Avni smirked. She folded her arms across her chest and moved a single step forward, lowering her voice to his volume.

"Bring it on."

Jupiter smirked back at her, and even patted her shoulder like a well-meaning friend. On her part, Avni did not flinch, did not blink, just continued to smirk as the boys walked away. Her eyes wandered around the Hall, challenging anyone and everyone to mock her behaviour, and warning them to mind their own business. She had surprised at what she had done, and couldn't really blame the tributes who were staring at her, for she had just messed with the Careers, something nobody dared to do. The best part was that she felt great, she felt energised, and she felt amazing, because this was what she was, this was what Avni Silvan was, and not the weeping mess that she had been all these days.

Hence, she was genuinely smiling when she turned to the boy from Three, who was looking at her with a strange expression, as if a combination of heartfelt gratitude and hair-raising fear, and Avni knew why. He probably suspected the Careers would be after him, but he did not worry. Most likely, they would all gang up on her instead, and that was okay.

"Thank you so much," he said softly, and now he was smiling kindly with her, gratitude clearly visible on his young face, "That means a lot to me."

"It was nothing," Avni replied, and she meant it.

"It means a lot," he reiterated, "I'm Rook, by the way."

"Avni," she replied, shaking his hand firmly, her confidence slowly but surely returning to her. Sure, she was about to die, and after her encounter with Jupiter she had simply accepted her fate. Why not do something useful with the short life that remained?

"Will you like to be my ally?" Rook asked, surprising her. Why would he want to ally with her? She was such a big target now… wouldn't that put him in trouble too? She searched his face for something, anything, that would tell her more. However, all she saw was a genuine request, his eyes having not deception in them. Avni smiled softly and then nodded.

"Sure."

* * *

**Hi guys! So, here's our first training day, and I really enjoyed writing it. Hopefully, you're enjoying reading it too. Things are moving fast now, and I hope this pace will continue, but let's see. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter and if your opinion on any character up till now has changed. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. We have, I think four more pre Games chapters, where we'll cover everyone else, and I'm excited about it.**

**Alliances:**

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Josephine, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista**

**Allies in Tough Times: Avni, Rook**

**On another note, the submissions for Sinners and Saints is still open, so do submit if you feel like it. it will be really appreciated.**

**Have a great day!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Training Day Two**

* * *

**Josephine Marcellus, 18**

**District Two Female**

* * *

Josephine Marcellus was someone who believed in smiling in any situation, however hard they be, but it was becoming increasingly difficult right now.

She knew better than to let anyone get on her nerves, especially now when it was the second day of training and she needed to keep her head cool. It wasn't that she wasn't trying to keep calm, she had put in a monumental effort to avoid getting annoyed and angry, but it was a greater feat than she had imagined, and her admiration for people who could tolerate it rose higher with each passing second. Of course, Cruxia and Nereus were those who constituted this particular group, the pair that remained adamant about their stance and yet refused to let it affect them, and that was a great strength, but Josephine was not like them, and she acknowledged it. The deeds of the other Careers was affecting her more than she had thought the previous day, and it was probably because of the subtlety with which they intimidated the Outliers, through glares and smirks and twisted grins, and it frankly disgusted Josephine. Their ideology was not hers, their values were not hers, their thinking was not hers. She was a true Career, a woman of dignity and class, and she was not going to indulge in belittling the weak and establishing her superfluous superiority.

She watched, with rage and irritation, as they went around the training centre as if they owned the place, terrorising children into not training 'too much', especially the ones who were practicing weaponry. She wished that they would put that kind of effort into getting some last-minute training and work out the way she and the pair from Four had been getting, practicing in the simulation chamber. Yes, it was true that Careers should not overwork during training days because anything could happen and they might get injured days before such a big event, but some regular exercise was certainly recommended. She sighed, forcing herself to look away from her allies, and reached out for a disposable glass. She filled it with cool water and held it firmly, looking into it, various thoughts racing across her mind. The water was not deep but definitely thought provoking, and the cool surface of the glass was slowly but steadily calming Josephine down. Going around like mafias, scaring the competition, robbing their chance at a fair play… she was not this. She was not this petty work of nature, she was not a girl with no self-esteem, for that was what she thought of her allies who were involved in these activities. Strategy would include marking targets, claiming supplies, and taking out as many tributes in the bloodbath as possible, not this vile thing that Jupiter had convinced everyone to do.

She touched the glass to her lips, the paper tasting a bit off but the coolness bringing a sense of refreshment in her blood as she drank the liquid, eyes shut, thinking about what she needed to do now that the majority had voted in favour of such a despicable act. She wanted to knock some sense of pride in these people, pride and honour, for what Career would lack such basic attributes that made one a Career? She did not know, and she couldn't refuse that she was especially put off by Napoleon. He was from Two, he should have had at least considered how important something like honour was for people back home. Did he really think that he would be welcomed with open arms in case he went back as a cheater and a goon? She wouldn't have had felt proud of him were he her victor. Probably this notion was what convinced Josephine that she was much better than Nate, much more deserving, and that it was time for her to take her own stand.

The threw the glass in the dustbin, and started ambling towards the group that had gathered at another water station, observing the competition even as they talked. Josephine's pace increased as the purpose and resolve became clearer in her own mind, and she was soon standing beside Jupiter, her hands clasped behind her back, and she locked eyes with him, making him pause in his motion and look back at her quizzically, a hint of surprise on his face.

"Stop with this," she said briskly, not caring about what he thought, not caring about what anyone thought. She was not having any of it, no more behaving like some dons and mafias. She crossed her arms across her chest, eyes not leaving Jupiter's even for a second, not blinking. In return, Jupiter too held her gaze with a quiet rage, his brows raised just a bit, and he too crossed his arms, mimicking her motion to assure her that he was serious about this conversation, and that he was serious about his decision.

"We voted on it, Josephine," he replied, and Josephine was starkly aware of all the stares that she was receiving, the fellow Careers watching back and forth between the two, but Josephine refused to lower or turn her gaze, for she knew that she wasn't being unreasonable, that she was among those few who cared about what a Career truly meant.

"Just because more people feel that stooping so low is justified, doesn't mean it actually is."

"Stooping so low?" Margaery spoke up, but Josephine refused to look at her as she stepped beside Jupiter as if to support him, "It's called strategy dude. We're all here to win."

"Win to bring honour to our home. I'm sure none of us really signed up for the thrill of murder."

"Of course not. But we need to make sure that a worthy tribute, one of _us_, wins this thing."

"But shouldn't it be done the right way?"

"What exactly is the 'right' way, Josephine?"

"The right way of doing things is when we're fair in our conduct, to do things that make sure that we don't regret our decisions, to feel deserving of what we achieve. However, I believe that you don't truly understand what I am saying Jupiter, or maybe you don't want to understand."

"We're a team and we don't have a leader. We do what the majority says."

"Well, if you continue to stay firm on your stance, I'll be firm on mine. I'm leaving."

"You're not serious!"

And finally, finally Josephine looked away from Jupiter's astounded eyes, his brow furrowed, and turned towards the other Careers, the people she knew would be threats to her in the near future, the people she'd try to kill as soon as she could. They were all looking at her as if she had betrayed them, disappointed in her, and Nereus and Cruxia's requests to not take such a step fell on deaf ears. She took one last look at everyone, not expecting the pair from Four to side by her. After all, she had taken an extreme step, and she knew it was probably not the best. However, she also knew that if she had kept quiet on the issue, she would not only feel guilty for something that wasn't her fault, but also be reduced to a sidekick of Jupiter Aeneas, and that was unacceptable to her self-esteem.

So, she nodded at them and walked away towards the simulation chamber. She would train independently now, and after the mandatory hours were over, she would dance a bit. And then, maybe, she would feel much more at ease.

* * *

**Cairn Rochester, 16**

**District Twelve Male**

* * *

Cairn had anticipated a lot of things to happen in his short life, but training for the Hunger Games with his _employee_ was not one of them.

He hadn't believed his ears when his name was called, when their names were called together, and he couldn't quite comprehend the situation when he was Reaped. This was the second day of training, and he could not comprehend anything much even now.

He was using a butcher's knife on a dummy quite absently, mind wandering over to his family and friends and life back home. What were the odds that he would be chosen? There were a lot of people who had taken more tesserae than him, who were older than him, but here _he _was, already in the second day of training, and Cairn Rochester couldn't help but feel his heart sinking like a wrecked ship in the ocean of despair and hopelessness, and burn like the lava erupting from a volcano. What were his chances of survival? Certainly not one in twenty-four, for there were seven trained Careers this year, each of them waiting for this moment through a whole year of hopelessness. Cairn tried to imagine what they must be feeling, the Careers, but failed rather spectacularly. How could he bring himself to relate to people- _children _-who trained to kill other children? Children who had no qualms about murder, about wiping out the existence of another human being, another person who dreamed the same, lived the same, breathed the same, looked the same. How was he supposed to empathise with such people? _Were_ they people?

The notion disgusted him so much that he dropped the butcher's knife on the spot and ran, ran hard towards the men's washroom, through the door, through the cubicle, and vomited out the bile that had been rising in his throat since so long. He vomited out the disgust, the inhumanity of these people whether they be the Five, the Capitol or the Careers, for what kind of person could do what these people did willingly? The disgust had been too much for him, and threw up all the contents of his stomach, coughing hard, chest heaving. He was panting hard, breathing hard, trying to gather the courage to go back and force himself to train for murder. Even as a butcher, he asked his other employees to cut the animals, and while he knew how to use a butcher's knife to cut meat, they were usually already dead. Here, he was required to kill a _person,_ and that thought made him throw up again.

When he finally did step out, he stumbled over to the sink and ran his pushed his hands under the water, staring at his hands, his hands that would not have harmless water trickling down them but red blood, a person's blood, and he pulled back his hands immediately, trembling slightly, and took a few seconds to collect himself, before he turned off the tap. He leaned against the sink, looking into the mirror, looking into his own terrified eyes, eyes of a prey and not a predator, but he kept on staring, panting, lips quivering, hands clenching tighter on the edge of the sink. He could not be the prey, he could not be the meat, he had to bring himself to take up the role of the butcher…

And he let out a distressed cry, a cry of anguish and desperation, a cry he had never heard from himself. He stumbled back, and did the only thing he could think of at the moment. Cairn started hitting himself hard, hard enough to cause pain, for he knew that it was a strong action like this that would force him to do what was necessary. It wasn't much, around three blows, but that was enough to knock some sense into him, at least temporarily. He checked his reflection in the mirror again after washing his face, and tried for a smile, which looked like anything but a smile.

And then, he was drifting, drifting towards the spot where he had left the butcher's knife, the one weapon that he could use, but his progress came to an abrupt halt when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to stop and look at Basileus Paladino, smiling lightly.

"You're quite good with that knife. I had watched from afar."

Cairn did not bother speaking on that; he was terrified of being stopped by a Career, and his usual shyness had amounted to something else altogether. His focus was on getting away from the brute, not come up with witty replies, and he stayed silent as Basileus looked at him from top to bottom.

"You've practiced enough," he finally said, "I don't think you need to do _more._"

It took Cairn a moment to understand what Basileus was trying to say. He didn't need to do more? But then it dawned on him exactly what the older boy meant, why he still had his hand on his shoulder, and why he was having that lopsided smile on his face. He was threatening him, threatening him to not train further, not to do anything and be a good boy, or else…

Cairn was at a loss of reply even as Basileus released him, but not before patting his arm lightly. He gave Cairn a lingering look, before turning around and heading over to the simulation chamber, leaving the younger boy rooted to his spot, eyes still wide at the threat. Sure, he had not wanted to train for murder, but people like Basileus, people who worked day and night to fulfil the dream of killing children their age or younger were trying to make sure nobody got as many skills as they could. They still hadn't completely stopped anyone, but they had forced tributes to consider options, options they weren't as good at, and Cairn couldn't believe at the unfairness of all this.

"Hey." Cairn turned around sharply at the sound, and was astonished to find Josephine standing with Lyanna, both of them looking at him solemnly.

"Hey?" he replied, confused as to _why_ were the wo girls together. They exchanged a look and Lyanna cleared her throat.

"Cairn, we'd like to talk to you for a second…"

* * *

**Cat Doyle, 13**

**District Three Female**

* * *

Cat Doyle was sitting calmly at the lunch table, staring at her plate and contemplating on how much effort had been taken to provide a balanced meal for the tributes.

No, she wasn't particularly interested in food, for she missed her family and her community, and she missed her life back home and she missed the food back home. She was also aware that her chances of survival were slim, for she was a measly girl, only thirteen years of age, and she was up against people who were more skilled. It was just that she had trouble coming to terms with this, and this plate was somewhat of a consolation that maybe, if she ate well, she could make it. She admitted that it was stupid, but was quite glad that the food here wasn't what the Capitolites usually ate, for that could be good for the tongue but not for the body. And so, she shoved a spoonful of aubergine stew in her mouth, not quite liking the taste but finding nothing to really complain about; everyone knew aubergine tasted weird and had an even weirder texture. She was quite relieved to get an excuse to look away from this particular dish when someone took a seat in front of her and diagonally to her. The girl from Five, Nell Tinker nodded at her before turning to look at her plate with her lips visibly downturned, whereas Jet Leather had simply started with the eggs, not bothering to look at where he was or who he was dining with.

"Hey," Cat smiled at Nell, "It's Cat."

"Tink," the other girl smiled, and shook hands with Cat, before getting back to scowling at the stew. She decided she didn't want to eat much of it, and started finishing it as soon as she could, saving the yogurt, the tortilla wrap and the pineapple juice for later. Cat couldn't help but laugh at Tink's dislike for the watery stew, and Tink joined her.

"I guess their budget is low," she exclaimed loudly, and Cat was astonished at how quickly she had emptied the whole bowl. There was nothing left in it, and Cat laughed again. it felt really good to laugh, for she couldn't remember having indulged in that action post being Reaped. Her heart felt lighter and she felt better for she still had the ability to laugh at silly things, to find humour in trivial situations, for she had thought that the anticipation of death had sucked away those emotions and feelings from her being. And so, she talked to Tink about things that were truly insignificant, especially the extremely bland stew, and Cat couldn't believe they were bonding over aubergine.

"Okay, the juice is really good," she said after taking the first sip. It really was amazing and just sweet enough to taste good instead of extremely sugary, and Tink nodded.

"My mum used to force me into eating fruits," Tink muttered, taking a large gulp of the juice, "And I always resisted it because fruits. And here I am, enjoying its juice."

"I know right? One of my friends at my community hated everything to do with fruits. He'd eat it, and then complain for at least an hour about how disgusting they are!"

"Your community?"

"Oh yeah. Back in Three, we had a community of misfits. People who had hard time adjusting in society, or who just weren't accepted by others… we found a home in this community."

"That is really cool! I would totally join your community to become friends with your friends, bro!"

"Haha, we'd love to have you."

And Cat clapped her hands twice, shaking her head, and smiled. She was glad that she got the chance to talk to someone around her age, and talk about things that were not related to the Games. Tink, however, failed to understand why, and she looked at her with a frown.

"You said you'd love to have me there and then shook your head?"

"Oh!" Cat realised that Tink probably did not know about her Tourette's, and she smiled at the other girl, "No no. I've Tourette's, so I sometimes have tics. It's just that, a tic."

"O…kay?"

And there went cat, explaining to Tink in detail about what Tourette's was, what echolalia was, and Tink, on her part, listened to everything raptly, her attention fixed completely on Cat Doyle, nodding at places and being a good audience in general. By the time Cat had finished explaining to her, Tink probably did understand what Tourette's and echolalia was about, and she was grinning stupidly at the other girl.

"You know what, Cat? I like you! Let's team up!"

Cat's hand, which was about to grab the spoon for the yogurt, paused midway. Teaming up… she had gotten so carried away that she had forgotten that she was talking to a tribute, a tribute who would have to die for her to go home. Her eyes stared at her hand, unable to meet Tink's. _Let's team up._ she was being asked to form an alliance, an alliance to kill…

_An alliance to _survive_, Cat! Don't think about the killing!_

"Cat?" Tink asked loudly, her face perplexed.

"I'm in," Cat replied automatically, and her lips curled upwards in an involuntary smile, but Tink didn't seem to notice that. So, she had an ally…

"I'm in too."

Both Cat and Tink jumped at the sudden sound, for they had completely forgotten that they had a companion at lunch, that Jet Leather had been sitting there all the while, and that he was the only one who had finished eating and was looking at them both bluntly. One would say that he was eavesdropping but he wasn't really, for Jet had been clearly present for the whole conversation. Tink chuckled at Cat's amused and Jet's poker face, and clapped his back gently.

"Alright, I don't mind."

"I don't mind either," Cat muttered.

To this, Jet nodded and stood up, lifted his empty plate and marched off to deposit it at the soiled dishes counter, not giving the girls another glance. The girls, on the other hand, chuckled again at the randomness that had been Jet's entry into the alliance, and Cat found herself being somewhat relieved. She had not given alliances much thought but she was glad that she had people with whom she could at least talk to, people who might keep her sanity intact.

"Well," Tink said, leaning back in her chair, grinning, "Tell me a little more about your community."

"Sure."

And there went Cat Doyle, telling her everything there was to know, finally a genuine smile on her face, and for the moment she allowed herself to forget about her troubles and focus only and only on the conversation she was having.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked this chapter. It was fun to write and I will try to get the third training day up next week, or maybe earlier. Also, I completed my challenge of including aubergine/eggplants in the story, and look how! Aubergine stew helped form an alliance, lol. Let me know what you guys thought about this chapter.**

**Alliances:**

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista**

**The Saviour and the Saved: Avni, Rook**

**This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet**

**Have a great day!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Training Day Three**

* * *

**Lyanna Winters, 18**

**District Twelve Female**

* * *

Lyanna had a hard time accepting her reality.

Of course, at the moment many other people's realities were similar to her own, but that did not make it easier. There had been a relaxation, a promise of peace, and then it was taken away from her in such a cruel fashion that she did not quite know how to comprehend it. and yet, she was astonished at the coldness of her own heart, of how it was eyeing the grand prize, for the wealth would be enough to solve all her financial problems, all her issues. She could send her siblings to school, get her father treated, and possibly still have enough to live comfortably for a few years, in which time she could find a better and higher paying job. She was riddled with guilt for having these feelings, for to win the prize, she would have to win the competition, the competition of life itself, and that was something that bothered her. It bothered her that she was willing to do what it took, that she was willing to get her hands stained in red, that she was willing to live with the guilt and regret that was surely to accompany her victory if it ever came to that. She was willing to do that to herself; she was willing to allow herself to become a monster, and this thought scared her.

And then there was Cairn. Lyanna loathed the fact that she was Reaped alongside her employer cum friend. For that was what they had become. She looked out for him, and he made sure her family was well fed so that she actually had savings at then end of every week. Even now, Cairn had told his friend to make sure that her family received meat while they were away. It was certainly thoughtful of him to ensure her family had food to eat in her absence as she was the sole bread winner, but it was a favour, a debt, and while Cairn always acted as if it was nothing, Lyanna valued it. Hence, whatever the matter she could not bring herself to harm him, not when he was caring for her loved ones. She was indebted and it would do poorly to return the favour by eliminating him. Yet, she wanted to win, and she was hating herself for hoping that someone else would take care of Cairn and that it would never come to her finishing him off.

Presently, she was in the bare room at the training centre, all alone. She still had no idea what was special about it, since all she could see was a huge screen with a few controls, but Lyanna wasn't confident enough to go and tinker with them. It was almost intimidating, the screen that was also one of the walls, with a sleek black panel having various complicated buttons and switches. Other than that, the room was bare, with glass walls, a black floor and nothing else. She stood there, facing the screen, when the glass door swung open, and in stepped a Career, his glasses resting neatly on the bridge of his nose, and a smile on his handsome face. Napoleon Walter looked surprised to see Lyanna there, his smile faltering for a second, but it picked back up again.

"Hello there," he greeted politely, "Are you using this room?"

"Using this room?" Lyanna asked.

"Well yes. This works as a simulation chamber as well as an information library. You can access details, videos, and other information about any Games from the past."

"Oh."

"If you want to use this room currently, I'll leave for now."

And it was this sentence that set Lyanna thinking. Hadn't Josephine told her, after allying with her and Cairn, that she was the most stumped by her District Partner's behaviour regarding Jupiter's plan? If he was involved in systematically targeting Outer District tributes and stop them from training, why was he willing to let her train first? She found it fishy, and she frowned. She found Careers to be despicable for their selfishness and general cruelty, and the only reason she agreed to ally with Josephine was because she was not like that at all. And then here came another Career, being polite with her while being a jerk to everyone else, and she couldn't quite grasp the motive behind this demeanour. He waited for her response patiently, and it bothered her. She couldn't quite control herself, and crossed her arms across her chest, eyeing him cautiously.

"Why?"

Napoleon did not respond immediately, his light smile starting to tick her off. He took his time, eyes never leaving hers for even a moment, and following that he simply turned around to leave, and it was this action that infuriated Lyanna, and she surprised even herself by running after him, grabbing his arm and turning him around to face her. He looked dishevelled at that, his glasses just a bit askew, and his mouth opened up just a bit.

"What happened Ms Winters?"

"You will not go anywhere without answering me!" she replied heatedly, her grip on his wrist getting tighter, deriving strength from all the work she had done at the mines. Napoleon made no effort to remove her hand either; instead, he stepped closer to her, his eyes looking at her sadly, almost as if with pity, and it took all her will power to not send her other hand punching towards his face, probably breaking his glasses.

"I'm not completely stopping anyone from training," he muttered, smile still intact, "I'm just stopping tributes from training too much. You have to understand Lyanna, I want to win this thing. While I do believe in fair play, I'm not going to put myself at a disadvantage for it. I'm not like Josephine, I value my purpose more than my ethics."

And when he mentioned her name, Josephine's name, Lyanna knew _why_ he wasn't stopping her. He was afraid, afraid that Josephine had two allies and was looking for more, afraid that they would target them, for there was a fair chance that the District Four pair would turn against the Career alliance, and that Josephine's alliance would gain an upper hand. It was far-fetched, but not impossible, and Napoleon Walter did not wish to make enemies unnecessarily, especially enemies that could beat him. Lyanna was disgusted; this guy was nothing other than a hypocritical git. Saying something, doing something else. Being a horrible person and pretending to be nice… And he was smiling, smiling with pity, smiling as if he was superior and so smart and as if she was nothing, as if all these other people were nothing, and she lost it, she lost her temper, and she didn't even realise when she raised her other hand and it moved towards his handsome face even as she gave out a frustrated cry.

But her attack was stopped by his superior reflexes, and it was now that Napoleon was smiling widely, and he kicked at her legs and she was down. The Career was on top of her, pinning her down with his body, and brought his lips near her ears even as she flailed against his clutches.

"Be careful, honey. You don't want to make me a foe."

And he drew his head back just a bit so that he was looking into her eyes, her terrified and enraged eyes, and he held her gaze proudly and firmly. Lyanna felt scared now, he was so close, so strong, and in such a position… what if he took advantage of her? She gulped, trying not to show how frightened she felt even as Napoleon came closer, and she turned her face away, breaking away the gaze even as Napoleon pulled back, holding her hand, and they were both standing now. Lyanna was panting despite herself and she stepped back hurriedly as Napoleon reached out to pat her shoulder. His hand stopped mid-air, and this was the first time that he frowned.

"I don't have wrong intentions for you, or anyone," he said, almost as if he was offended that she thought of him this way, "I was just defending myself from the slap that you had so accurately aimed at me."

And with that, he smiled sadly at her again, giving her that look of pity that had set her off in the first place, and he finally went through the door, leaving Lyanna all alone to train in peace. And she… she just stared after him, hugging her left arm with her right, still panting, but knowing that they would cross paths again, and then next time, she was going to be the one on top.

* * *

**Rook Karis, 16**

**District Three Male**

* * *

Rook had, in his short time here, seen things that were not easily seen.

He had gained an ally, an ally who was a sweetheart and someone whose company he liked. However, one sentence from her mouth told him all that he needed to know. Her accent was strange, so foreign that he sometimes didn't quite catch what she was saying, but that happened very rarely. It was quite strong and raw, and initially felt like listening to a different language altogether. However, her English told him that she was a foreigner, and considering what was happening to foreign nationals and immigrants, he immediately deduced that she volunteered because she was forced into it. Taking into account her reckless behaviour with the Careers earlier, as well as her overall helping nature, he also concluded that she was not getting out of this alive due to political reasons, and despite himself he felt sad. He felt sorry for her, for she certainly did not deserve it, but Rook new better than to say anything and annoy those who must be listening.

The tributes had been told, in a rather informal manner, that there were very few cameras in place at the training centre, and those could be clearly seen. Rook would never say out loud to anyone that he had seen hidden cameras at every single station withing the training centre, seen small microphones that recorded each word anyone said, seen that they were being monitored even in their rooms and bathrooms. Rook behaved himself, presented himself to be a good boy, for he wanted to live, wanted to survive, and if this regime was to stay, he wanted to flourish. The Five would most likely not harm a victor who looked harmless and weak to them, and in the Games they would target those that looked more dangerous.

And so, he kept his head low and worked with knives and wires, utilised his senses to keep tabs on everyone, and spoke nothing. Ultimately, after much contemplation, Rook decided that he did not want to be noticed much. However, he was also aware of the nagging thought that told him to look out for strong allies, stronger than he and Avni were. He had thought approached Dekker, but he had refused to ally with them and Rook did not find any reason to blame him. After all, due to Avni's clash with the Careers, everyone would naturally wish to avoid them.

Hence, he was surprised when, during lunch hour that day, he was joined by none other than the Career who broke off from her alliance, along with her allies.

"Do you mind if we sit here?"

"No, of course not."

And Rook smiled at all of them, the gears of his brain already churning. He had reason to believe that they were here for a purpose, a purpose he knew all too well, and he was already debating on whether he would say yes or no. There were advantages and disadvantages to both the answers, and Rook was angry with himself for being so indecisive again. but he had to, he had to make a decision. Outwardly, however, he continued eating his meal as if a Career joining him was something that happened every day. Beside him, Avni had stiffened for a second, her eyes taking in all the three new entries to their table, but she held her tongue too, smiling at them.

The three of them introduced themselves while Rook and Avni simply watched their moves. They sat a bit too erect, their smiles a little too awkward, the looks in their eyes a little too flighty. Josephine let out a sigh even as Rook shoved the spoon of aubergine stew in his mouth, eyes not leaving them.

"Okay guys, we have been noticing you both," Josephine started, resting her hands on her lap, and this was when Rook put down his spoon and leaned back in his chair to show that he was listening.

"We believe you both can be valuable allies to us, and we to you. Will you like to join us?"

And Rook still did not know. _Should _he accept the offer? He crossed leaned back a little further, pretending as if he had made a decision and was toying with them, but only he knew the turmoil that he was going through. Allying with Josephine might provide a cover for him, a protection of sorts, since Jupiter and Basileus might target them. However, the whole plan could backfire and he could have the whole pack of those heinous wolves after him. However, he took a long while to decide, and in the meantime, Avni posed the question that came to her mind first.

"How can we trust you?"

"I didn't quite get you."

"You are a Career," she went ahead slowly, "You guys train to kill. You abandoned your allies because their ideology didn't match with yours, and yet you didn't stop them from causing terror even once. All of us here are weaker than you. How can we be sure that you won't just use us? I understand you want to win, we all do, but how can I expect hat you will help us when we need it?"

"I agree," Rook added calmly, crossing his leg on the other as he eyed them critically. This posture almost always worked at intimidating the opponent, and he noticed with mild satisfaction as the other three sat up straighter than before. "How do we know that you won't ditch us for your old allies?"

"Because she already fought with them over how they were treating you guys," Lyanna intervened nonchalantly, "We were suggesting this alliance because we had hoped you'd like to be on board but it seems you have trust issues."

"Don't take it otherwise," Rook smiled, "We just need to be sure."

"Alright then let's set some rules so you know exactly _when_ you need to be wary. How about we continue this alliance till the final seven, post which all of us plays for ourselves?"

Rook raised his brow at the two girls even as he felt a soft touch against his wrist. He turned to look to his right at his ally, her face passive but eyes speaking volumes, and it seemed as if she thought it was worth joining it. Rook didn't know for sure. There were so many possibilities, so many things that could go wrong. He wouldn't have minded if it was just District Twelve, but Josephine was… controversial. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her move to ditch her allies over her morals, he truly respected that, but that told him a lot about her. If there was one thing Rook was certain of, it was his own immorality. He already had so many Careers on his back; was it worth the risk to have one more who would be his ally?

At the same time, he needed a strong alliance, an alliance that he could control employing whatever methods he had to, and something told him about these three that it would be easy to do that with them, especially Cairn. If he just played his cards right, then maybe, just maybe, he could actually benefit greatly from the alliance.

And so, he nodded slowly and deliberately, smile still in place, not changing even a bit. It was so uniform that one could think that it was forcefully plastered on his face, but Rook did not care, he might have had actually wanted to give that impression.

Probably the other three got the point, for they smiled back at him. The five of them continued with their meal, although none of them was truly focused on it. Rook was studying the other three and was quite aware of the fact that they were doing the same, eyeing him in the most subtle of ways. Rook was an old player at this game though, and all he needed was to plan a way to utilise his allies to his gain.

Well, at least they had reached a deal.

* * *

**Kespar Lynx, 15**

**District Eight Male**

* * *

Kespar had been really quiet during his time in the Games, and he didn't regret it at all.

Where others had been fighting even before reaching the arena, he had been working in silence, learning all he could without making it too obvious. He arrived at the training centre before the Careers did, and that was when he trained with a simple dagger. And when they were around, he simply _watched._ He watched the videos regarding different plants, the poisonous and the edible ones. He watched how to make traps to catch small animals, and how to make traps to attack big humans. He watched how to just mingle with the background, he watched how to tell the direction, and he watched how to set up small fires that gave little smoke. Kespar tried to do all of those at least once without taking any help from trainers or referring to the videos, just to see whether he could pull off all these tricks without help, and found that he had successfully done it all. Sure, his traps weren't as pretty as the ones in the videos, now were his camouflaging skills at par, but it could still work. He remembered everything he had watched with astonishing clarity, and Kespar knew that he was getting the most amount of training done, acquiring a lot many skills that many of the other tributes wouldn't bother learning.

And it was okay, for Kespar truly didn't care for them. He didn't care whether the tributes were being allowed to train or not, for it was an admittedly brilliant strategy by the Careers, and Kespar could actually see himself employing it if he was in their place. in any case, his low profile had managed to keep him from their watchful eyes, and currently he knew a fair bit about them.

He had also observed this particular boy from Five, working away with the short swords, and being quite good with them for a beginner. He was athletic and generally fit, quiet just like he himself was, and could overall be beneficial to him.

It was an amicable walk across the floor, eyes focused on the target. As far as he knew, Dekker had no allies as of yet. Of course, Kespar was not extremely optimistic about the chances of an alliance, for he had not forgotten that he was just a fifteen-year-old boy, a mere child. And while he considered himself to be much more than just that, he couldn't really force Dekker to think the same. Hence, upon reaching him, he paused for a moment, hesitation in his thought and reflected in his eyes, but he ultimately decided to ignore it. A hand reached out, lingering over Dekker's shoulder a second too long, in which time the older boy turned around, suspicion in eyes, and glared at him.

Kespar lowered his hand at that, feeling awkward at the timing at which the older boy faced him, but refusing to back down anyway, meeting his gaze strongly. He could feel the seconds of silence passing by, seconds that felt like an eternity, and despite Kespar not being exactly social in general, he had started feeling awkward. He wanted nothing more than to break the eye contact, and get on with what he had to say, but now it had started feeling more like a staring match than a genuine gaze, and Kespar hated losing even if the matter was as petty as this.

"Why are you here?" Dekker asked finally, eyes narrowing just a bit as if appraising the boy in front of him.

"I wanted to talk."

"And you decided to sneak up on me for that?"

Now Kespar had done a lot of things in his life, but sneaking up on people like a creep was not one of them. He was honestly offended, and in any other situation he wouldn't have graced the accuser with a reply. However, this was not the time to do so, and he shrugged it off.

"I wasn't sneaking up on you. I was about to tap your shoulder to get your attention."

"Ah, I see."

"Don't use that tone on me."

Dekker did not say anything on that, and simply set down his short sword on the rack where it was supposed to be, and then stuffed his hands into his pockets as he looked down at the younger boy. Now Kespar knew a thing or two about using postures to intimidate, and seeing Dekker like this made him scoff aloud.

"What did you want to 'talk' about?"

"Well, I was about to ask you to be my ally but considering your attitude and general demeanour, I guess that will be just wasting my time. Go ahead, carry on with your training."

With that, the younger boy turned on his heels and started off. He would have had liked to ally with Dekker, but what he had told him was true. Kespar didn't know if he could handle an annoying man like him, one who might question his every move and would become a burden instead of an asset. Yes, he was good with his short sword, and was physically strong too, but that wasn't enough for Kespar. He needed someone he could _use_, and that didn't necessarily involve physical battles.

"Wait."

Kespar didn't quite know why his legs came to a halt at the word, or why he turned around to face Dekker when he had just decided that not allying with him would be okay too. He figured it was him trying to see the positive side of this, for if he had given it too much thought, he would have tried to get him on his side, and behaving in a needy manner was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Yeah?"

"I'm in."

Kespar looked at him for a few seconds, studying him as if to see whether anything was off, and found nothing. He could have refused just for the laughs, and he admitted it would be funny, but he was not as petty as to do that. So, he nodded at his ally, and turned around again, walking away from the weapons area. There were a few questions in his mind, for it was only now he realised that his ally could be a handful to manage, but Kespar didn't want to think about it too much. He would go and watch a few more videos, memorise a few more techniques, for he had very short time for training. Kespar wanted to gain as much knowledge as he could that would help him survive, for post the private sessions that were about to start in some time, he would be left with no time.

And right now, time was of utmost essence.

* * *

**Hello all. So, I know this update took a longer time to get out compared to the previous few chapters. I had most of it written, and didn't have the time to add in those 300 words in the end, but finally it's here. I think this chapter was slightly weaker in terms of flow and impact, but hopefully it'll get back on track from the next. Let me know your thoughts on this!**

**Alliances:**

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista**

**This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet**

**Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook**

**I Kind of Dislike You: Kespar, Dekker**

**Have a good day!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Private Sessions**

* * *

**Napoleon "Nate" Walter, 18**

**District Two Male**

* * *

Napoleon had a lot going on for him.

He had these other Careers to watch out for, the Anti-Career alliance, and that girl… He had encountered her in the morning, and yet he kept thinking of her, replaying those moments in his mind again and again. There was something about her that attracted and pushed him away at the same time. The fierce look in her eyes, the fact that she had attacked him, and the strength of her body… It all looked Career material to Nate. He couldn't stop thinking about her for long, and it seemed as if his teammates had noticed this in his demeanour, for they questioned him about why he was smiling so lightly and discreetly, and to Nate's surprise, he had simply blushed. It wasn't because of any other reason than pure embarrassment, but his allies were reading a little extra into his actions, and then they were pestering him to know the secret, but he kept shaking his head like an old and wise man.

And it was now time to go for his Sessions. He shook hands with Nereus and Cruxia while Josephine nodded at him, and started walking towards the steel doors, his feet tapping loudly on the polished floor, creating a tapping sound so loud that Napoleon started walking in longer strides, for that sound was irritating in the silence that was prevailing. He walked in through the door and a narrow corridor, until he was standing in a magnificent large hall, with countless stations containing weapons surrounding him. There was a simulation chamber in the corner, rows and rows of weapons and dummies, resident trainers standing by the walls and an overhead balcony where the Gamemakers sat. it was the first time he was seeing them, and Nate couldn't tell initially which one of them was the Head Gamemaker. Not until she tilted her head at him, staring at him as if looking right into his soul, and despite himself Nate felt himself worrying, for nobody had ever looked at him as if they knew everything about him. That was the kind of look that he reserved for people.

He greeted the panel politely, bowing slightly, but they just kept on staring at him, critically analysing his every move, and Nate felt himself becoming self conscious. And yet he moved gracefully across the hall towards the simulation chamber, aware of the multiple pairs of eyes following his every move. One of the trainers started the simulation, and then Nate was transported in a world where nothing existed: not the weapons, not the gamemakers, not the trainers. Nothing except him and his environment, a dark cave where he could barely see anything. But if there was one sense of his that was at its peak, it was his listening, and he masterfully dodged the attack of a fellow faceless tribute. He couldn't see them, but he listened as their footsteps echoed in the dark, and jumped towards the right before turning around on his hands and kicking this person at the shins, standing up when he heard the satisfying _thud._

And then he was running, running through the darkness, nothing to rely on except his senses. He heard a loud howl in the distance, a howl that raised the hair at the back of his neck, and he felt around for a place to hide. Nate was not someone who would hide, but he wasn't exactly a risk-taker either, and knowing that he was unarmed, he wasn't up for tackling a wolf mutt.

He did find an alcove and quickly got into it, breathing heavily as he listened, trying not to make a sound. He knew when the wolf was right under him, and he kept silent, not moving a muscle even though the howl from so close startled him. He kept low, his foot searching for an opening out of the alcove if there was one, and thankfully it was there. Slowly, he started crawling backwards, through the opening, hoping there was nothing else on the other side. He felt the ground end, and lowered one of his legs gingerly to find the ground, before landing down softly.

And now he ran, ran hard, blindly, his ears still alert. It was this cautiousness that told him of the stream, and he followed the sound. He fell just once, grazing his knee, but ignoring it altogether, until he was at the stream, the gurgling sound like magic to his ears, for he realised how thirsty he was. He didn't drink the water though, for he didn't know whether it was safe or not. He just grabbed around for something, anything that he could use as a weapon, and was honestly delighted to find that there was a complete weapon nearby after all, an axe too at that, a weapon he was most comfortable with.

The moment the axe was in his hands, all hell broke loose.

He could hear multiple footsteps approaching, footsteps that were hasty and aggressive, and Napoleon tightened his grip on the axe. He listened carefully, and felt the very air move close to him, and this alerted him regarding an attack, and he ducked quickly, rolling forward on the ground, and turning back to attack with the axe. With a sickening sound, he felt the axe going into the person's spine- and getting stuck there.

Any other person would panic in such a situation, but not Napoleon Walter. He held his ground as other tributes attacked him, taking advantage of the darkness, but they just couldn't touch him. He perfectly evaded all their attacks and landed a few kicks in too. At the same time, he tried to pull out the axe from the dead tribute's back but was unsuccessful, it was stuck a little too deep in the bone. Hence, when the next tribute attacked, he dodged the move and snapped his neck. He kicked the next tribute rather hard on the chest, before stomping it again and again until the cannon exploded. There was one more opponent left, and it was this opponent that hit him hard on the back, his breath exploding for he did not see them coming, literally and figuratively, and he was lying on his stomach. He felt another kick approaching but rolled out of the way, and the next time he simply grabbed their leg, twisted them around till they fell and then pinioned them down, choking them to death.

Nate was breathing heavily as he got off this person's back, unable to still see anything clearly. He had killed so many people...yes, he believed they were already dead, but Nate acknowledged that it was not easy, not easy at all…

When his surroundings merged from the endless darkness to the training chamber, he was momentarily startled and extremely groggy at the presence of light, shielding his eyes with his hands. Slowly, he dared to open them, and it took him a few moments to come out of the simulation chamber.

"Thank you for your session," the Head Gamemaker said, "Kindly leave for you room through the door to your right."

"Thank you everyone," Nate greeted, still feeling dishevelled at the sudden light after what felt like an eternity in that darkness but he knew better than to show it. He smiled at them and walked out, feeling good about his session.

However, a thought lingered on his mind long after. He had been disturbed to kill simulated humans; could he really bring himself to kill real ones as easily as he believed he could?

* * *

**Nell "Tink" Tinker, 12**

**District Five Female**

* * *

She tapped her foot on the floor, a nervous energy radiating from her, and she was aware that it was consuming others too. But Tink couldn't help it. No, she wasn't concerned about the private sessions or her performance there; she was concerned about the Games. Tink was not delusional, she knew that she was young, with much lesser strength and wisdom compared to her competitors, and that her chances were slim. She ran her hand through her short hair, eyes darting up and down the rows of tributes. Nereus had just gone in for his private session, and Tink could feel herself getting more and more agitated.

It confused her as to how, just beside her, Aron was sitting calmly, his eyes shut, arms crossed. He had given her a look when her foot bouncing had become really aggressive, but had refrained from commenting on it. Tink let out a sigh as she rubbed her palms together, mind wandering to an unknown arena, trying to imagine herself winning… but her mind went blank. There was nothing, absolutely nothing.

A firm hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up at her District Partner, Dekker Mattson. His face was grim, and he did not offer her a fake consolatory smile. Instead, he tightened his grip just a bit, and that was enough for Tink to remember to remain strong. She smiled at him for the gesture, knowing it wasn't much help, but also knowing that she had to remain tough.

She had not even realised when the time came for Dekker to leave.

She gave him a thumbs-up as he nodded at her, and then she was left all alone in this sea of tributes. She took in a deep breath through her nose, exhaling slowly through her mouth, trying to push away all the negative thoughts from her mind. She recalled her family and friends, the great time they had spent together, the laughs and the scoldings and the pranks and the fights and the tears, and it was due to these wonderful memories, these memories meant to be cherished life long, that she regained her strength. Private Sessions were important, getting a good score was important, and she had to do well here, she had to get in that mindset, despite how hard it was.

Her eyes were shut, but she felt someone settle next to her, on Dekker's seat. This person comfortingly put a hand on her shoulder, the touch much lighter and uncertain than Dekker's had been. Tink's eyes flew open at this unexpected touch, and she turned her head to face this new person. However, her jaw dropped on seeing this person, her eyes widened, and she recoiled in her seat, pushing away the hand, for the person sitting next to her was none other than Basileus Paladino, the resident gangster amongst the tributes, or that was what Tink thought of him. He was _everywhere_, stopping other children from training, intimidating them, and just being nasty in general. Sure, he had never bothered Tink, but she had seen enough of him to not want anything to do with him.

"Why're you here?" she demanded, "Get lost!"

She heard a rather audible gasp from Ark Zagog and murmurs from others, but she ignored them. Yeah, he was a Career and he was dangerous, but that did not mean Tink was going to tolerate his nonsense. She was here to survive as much as anyone else was, and she was smart enough to know that a bully like Basileus wouldn't spare her just because she was polite to him. The man in question looked visibly astounded at her reaction, and his brows furrowed as he eyed her.

"I just wanted to check on you," he replied, catching Tink off-guard. _He_ was checking on _her_?

"And why would you do that?"

"You looked nervous and worried. I understand the private sessions can be scary. After all, those Gamemakers will be analysing your every move."

"I-I'm neither nervous nor worried!"

"You look like it."

"And why on earth does that matter to you?"

"You're a kid."

And that was all he said as he continued smiling at her. There was something about this that was making Tink awkward. She was quite awkward in general, but the way Basileus was showing concern was making things worse, because the truth was that she was being rude to him. He deserved it, she reasoned, for being a heartless bully, and thus she decided to do the one thing that would get him off her back; she ignored him.

Like a child angry at an adult for not buying her her favourite toy, she turned her head in the other direction, refusing to look at him, hoping he would take the cue and leave. However, this tactic, as it usually happened, failed spectacularly, for Basileus just laughed out at this, making Tink turn around to face him again.

"What?!" she asked, her voice angry, and her mind currently diverted from the dilemma that were the Games.

"You keep denying it but you are scared."

"So what if I am? Unlike _some_ people here, I haven't been training all my life to chop down children."

And Tink was mildly satisfied as she saw that Basileus' smile had ceased a little, his brows were furrowed, and he just looked as awkward as she felt. He had been trying to act nice, but Tink could see it for what it was: an act. An act could never make a bully into a hero, and trying to be nice with little girls was just creepy.

"I've had my reasons," he replied, and Tink was surprised that he wasn't getting angry the way he had been all the time during training, "I understand that you don't like me, and it's okay. Sometimes, I don't like myself either. What is important is that we do well in these Sessions to boost our chances of winning. Just show them what you know confidently."

Tink wanted to reply to that, even though she did not know what exactly it would comprise of. However, she was saved the trouble of thinking up an answer due to her name being called. She hadn't even realised how quickly the time had passed, and she scrambled to her feet, heart pounding, and making her way towards the door to the chamber that would be a critical factor in deciding her fate. However, she did look back once, only once, and saw that Basiles Paladino was still there, smiling at her, and mouthed 'good luck'.

And despite herself, Tink smirked back at him, nodding at him, before walking in through the door.

* * *

**Basileus Paladino, 18**

**District Eleven Male**

* * *

Basil was relaxing on his couch, reflecting on the events of the day, particularly his interaction with the little girl from Five. She was a fiesty one, she certainly was, and he hoped she would do well. Basil yawned, leaning back on the couch. The day had been extremely tiring, and he had royally messed up his private sessions by fighting with the Gamemakers and cursing them, calling them names that no child should ever hear. Yes, it was a tiring day indeed and he wanted nothing more than to sleep in his bed. The next day was big, after all, in terms of everything it held. The interviews… he wondered how he would do. He certainly hoped it wouldn't be as bad as the private sessions. The thought made him sigh aloud, and he pushed the memory of the sessions from his mind, not wanting to be bothered about it at all. No, he thought about how he wanted his interview to go. He wanted to tell his siblings and friends that he loved them, and they need not worry. He wanted to tell Yang that he missed him every second, and wanted nothing more than to be back with him. He wanted to hug him and hold him tightly, for although Basil didn't admit it to anyone, he was feeling utterly alone.

He thought back on how Yang had hugged him the last time they had seen each other. With his parents dead, Basil didn't have anyone else who would provide a shoulder to lean on. His siblings were younger than him, mere children, and he didn't want to burden them with his emotional turmoil. He wanted to be with Yang, and he hoped that, after winning this Games the way his late father wanted him to, he would be back with his love, and that he would love him the way he had been all these years.

Basileus had allowed himself to smile as he recalled Yang Chan, but his smile was wiped off his face when _she_ entered the room. He groaned in his heart, and basically kept his eyes shut just to block the face of this mean girl, and he tried to focus on anything, _anything_ to avoid listening to her.

Usually, Belladonna Betony did not bother with him. It was her mere presence, her irritating voice, her glares that drove Basil up the wall, turning him mad. She was so petty, drowning in self pity and crying and complaining and cursing. And he couldn't forget how she had _slapped_ him during the fashion parade. The slap echoed in his head to this day and he could not find what he had said wrong at all. He had been honest, that was it, honest to her face when she had started grumbling about her life. He was being honest with her when he said that she deserved it, that a person as petty and vile as her deserved to live alone and die alone, and that had earned him his slap.

He still believed quite firmly that it was ill placed.

Well, what could he expect from an ignorant little brat like her? In his heart, Basil knew that he would have been softer and more understanding towards just about anyone else, but there was just something about Belladonna that put him off, bringing out his worst self to the front. There was this neediness in her eyes, this clinginess, that he absolutely despised. And if she really was as alone as she claimed to be, Basil knew that nobody was going to miss her if she died in the Games, for if there was anyone who actually deserved a demise in the arena, it was her, for being a burden on mankind. And yet, Basil hated himself for thinking this way, quite aware that these thoughts weren't true and were only a result of all his frustration and anger at this girl, but he simply did not care.

They had not spoken a single word to each other since that day. Therefore, he was quite surprised and annoyed when she sat down next to hi wordlessly, and reached out for the television remote, her hand accidentally brushing his arm.

"What is it?" he asked, not in the mood to fight at all, but her very presence was making it hard for him to remain calm.

Thus, he was astounded at her rather matured reply- of giving no reply. She simply stared at the screen, flicking channel after channel, and Basileus believed she was looking for their scores. However, when she stopped at a weird singing competition show, which was at least three years old, Basileus couldn't help but scoff. _Why _did he even think she'd care enough to look for the scores? Sure, it wasn't time, but it was still a lot to expect from someone like Betony. Basil wanted to make a comment, a nasty one at that so that she would leave him alone, but found himself trying to be considerate instead, and so he kept shut, not saying a word to Belladonna Betony.

The girl on the show sang aloud, her melodious voice echoing ringing through the room they were in, and Basil felt himself relaxing, leaning back in his seat, one leg up on the couch. He heard munching beside him, and saw that it was Belladonna, munching on some potato chips that she seemed to have magically produced from nowhere, for Basil's eyes swept the area and found no trace of the packet. It was just the bowl in Bell's hands, and the chips in her mouth, the loud crunching sound annoying and fascinating him a little too much, and he realised that he was staring at her, staring at her as she _ate_, and he quickly turned away, hoping that she had not noticed, for what would she think?

And so, the two of them sat together in a semi-comfortable silence, watching the recording of a three year old show, enjoying the music as contestant after contestant sang with their souls. Not once did Belladonna offer Basil any chips, nor did she acknowledge his presence. Basileus, on his part, did the same, ignoring the presence of this beside him. He could already imagine Esther spotting them like this and losing her mind, for they had always fought in front of her.

No, Basileus still did not like her, but at least he had seen a side of her that wasn't as irritating as her usual self. And that was something.

* * *

**Hello all. I've been meaning to get this chapter out for a while, but I've been really busy and sick. However, I felt that it has been too long since I updated, and I apologise if this chapter doesn't feel right. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. :) I've summarised the training scores as below:**

**Margaery: 9**

**Jupiter: 10**

**Josephine: 10**

**Napoleon: 11**

**Cat: 5**

**Rook: 7**

**Cruxia: 9**

**Nereus: 9**

**Nell: 5**

**Dekker: 7**

**Akira: 4**

**Aron: 6**

**Calista: 6**

**Ark: 4**

**Cupid: 7**

**Kespar: 6**

**Dakota: 7**

**Kai: 5**

**Avni: 7**

**Jet: 5**

**Belladonna: 4**

**Basileus: 12**

**Lyanna: 9**

**Cairn: 5**

**I know the scores are a bit on the higher end this time around but eh. Let me know if anyone's surprised you, I've tried to stick to what was on the forms this time around.**

**Alliances: **

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista**

**This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet**

**Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook**

**I Kind of Dislike You: Kespar, Dekker**

**Have a good day!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Interviews and the Night Before**

* * *

**Nereus Naga, 18**

**District Four Male**

* * *

Usually, he was not a person to be gripped by nervousness, but that was not the case that day.

Nereus was fidgeting behind the stage, adjusting his jet black tie, caressing his hair., a soft sigh escaping his lips. The backstage was full of tributes at the moment, most of them nervous, some pacing the floor, and some sitting calmly. Nereus saw little Ark rocking back and forth in his seat anxiously, Cupid and Calista talking between themselves in hushed tones, Kespar and Dekker simply sitting beside each other, Aron tapping his foot, and Cruxia being calm. He did not know how she did it, being calm, right when the Games were approaching and tonight would decide their image in the Capitol. Nereus acknowledged the importance of image among the audience, for it was this image that decided whether they thought one was worth investing in or not. Maybe it was this realisation that was making him increasingly restless, for even the air conditioned room couldn't stop him from sweating profusely, and he dabbed a handkerchief to his wet skin, attempting to dry off the sweat without smudging his makeup, and this was a particularly hard task.

He felt a hand tap lightly on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Cruxia smiling at him. He smiled back, quite conscious that she must have sensed the anxiousness off him.

"Don't worry," she said lightly, "You're going to smash the interviews. You have so much to talk about, you'll do well."

"Thank you Cruxia."

He wanted to tell her more about how he felt, but in order to do that he needed to know it himself, and Nereus had absolutely no idea what he was going through. There was a hollowness within him that he couldn't quite place, a sense of impending doom ever since he volunteered, as if he had done something wrong, as if it was a grave mistake, as if he had been used. He didn't know, and it was the unknown that was bothering him, making him anxious and restless. Cruxia furrowed her brows as he looked away, and tightly gripped his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You can tell me, Nereus."

"I- I honestly don't know. I'm just tired, I guess."

"It'll all be okay."

With that, she gave his shoulders a light squeeze, nodded at him encouragingly, and then left him to join Margaery, who was speaking to Jupiter. She did not stay around for long, however, for the interviews had finally begun.

Nereus remained in the room that they were in, debating whether he should go closer to the stage to listen to what was happening. Ultimately he decided to give it a go, and joined Jupiter, who was patiently waiting for his turn. The two remained quiet as they listened to the proceedings on the stage. Nereus had never really talked to Jupiter much. There were occasional nods and acknowledgement and a 'hello' sometimes, but never a one to one conversation. There was something about him that he did not like, a dominance that he exuded, a charming smile trying to conceal that pointless rage. Nereus truly believed that Jupiter and Basileus deserved each other for they alone could handle the other's rage. He was quite surprised though, with how much effort they put in to remain calm. Their effort was commendable, and that was probably why he could stand them.

"...do you think the Careers will be able to live up to their legacy this time around?"

"Oh definitely. We have all dreamed of being in the Games- and winning them and my bros and I are going to give our best. And everyone knows the others can't really stand up to our best."

"Well, it is great to see you so confident Margaery! Wishing you the best of luck for the Games."

"Thank you!"

"And next up, we have the charming Jupiter Aeneas from District One!"

Nereus smiled at Jupiter even as he put on his most charming grin, walking onto the stage with a confidence that Nereus somewhere knew that he himself lacked. The curtains were dropped and he could hear soft voices from the stage. He shut his eyes and focused, trying to catch a few words. He did not know why he was so interested in listening to the conversation, but he just wanted to. Probably it was his Career instinct that screamed in his mind to weigh the chances of other Careers, probably it was just that he himself wasn't sure how to handle his interview and wanted to know how things could turn out. He was, as usual, confused regarding why he wanted something, but he wanted to listen.

"Jupiter, we've heard that you had made some decisions that led to a fallout between your alliance and a former member. What led to it?"

Jupiter chuckled softly, and then replied, "Well, I can't say that _I_ made any decision. It was a collective one, where we'd voted on working on a particular strategy. One of our friends didn't agree with it and parted ways with our alliance."

"I've heard she has formed an alliance of her own."

"She has indeed. She has good leadership skills and is a strong competitor, I'm sure nobody would really refuse working with her."

"Do you have any vendetta against her?"

"Of course not! She's still a good friend, and has all the right to disagree with the team's decision and take her own call. That's not something to hold against someone."

Nereus frowned at the blatant lie that Jupiter was uttering on the stage. He had _raged_ when Josephine had left the alliance, fuming, trembling in anger, calling a meeting to decide on how to eliminate her as quickly as possible and why she totally deserved it. And here he was, lying through his teeth, smiling, praising the woman for whom he had uttered nothing but filth. Nereus was so lost in thought that he didn't quite notice that the girl in question was on the stage, not until she was asked about the same.

"Well, I like to abide by my principles, and they mean a lot to me. As a Career training for this event, I want to win this honourably. I couldn't bring myself to agree to a plan that contradicted those values."

Nereus wished that he had the courage to leave like she did; he didn't particularly like the people in his alliance other than Cruxia. Josephine was honest, and you could expect some kind of predictability from people who were honest or angry or had a certain trait that you could exploit. It was Napoleon that bothered him, Napoleon with his bright smiles and kind looks and soothing voice.

The interviewer was asking Nate about his score, and the guy just laughed it off just like he handled most other things. Nereus could feel the mirth in his voice when he replied, "I don't think I had given a particularly special performance, but I am thankful to the panel of gamemakers to award me that score. It means a lot."

The crowd was buying this answer, and Nereus was surprised that the interviewer did not push him further on the topic. When Cat Doyle was asked what she missed the most about home, she replied confidently, "I miss my family, my family that has come together to support each other and turn our weaknesses into strengths. I miss my little community of misfits."

Rook, who had looked panicky at the training centre because of Jupiter and Basil, appeared to be strangely calm in his interview. He had that easy smile on his face, and he answered confidently, and yet… Nereus couldn't quite place it. He was a little too charming for a guy from Three, his smile perfectly positioned, his voice almost like velvet as he answered, the smoothness making Nereus just a bit envious of the boy's confidence.

"Is there a motivation back home for you?"

"I believe motivation is derived from within oneself; external influences are temporary within our life."

"Well said! So, Rook, do you believe you have what it takes to win the Games?"

"Absolutely," Rook smiled at that, "I have the drive to go for things that I have set my mind on, and winning the Games is definitely one such thing. Besides that, the love and support that I have received here is going to take me forward to my goal."

"Are you not afraid of the competition."

"I'm on my guard," he replied, surprising Nereus. Usually tributes didn't acknowledge competition at all, and even if they did, they answered with something like 'we're ready for them'. Rook did neither, silently acknowledging the Careers and the other tributes that were threats, contrary to the popular strategy.

"So you admit that you're weaker than them?"

"No, I admit that we all have our strengths, and I'll be looking out for them while capitalising on my own. It's important to be aware of your competition's strengths and weaknesses. In the past, many tributes have failed to win just because they either underestimated or overestimated their opponents. These mistakes are to be avoided."

When Cruxia was called on the stage, she looked at Nereus with a confident smile, nodding slightly at him, and he returned it, clenching his fists that were stuffed inside the pockets of his suit, for he was still nervous, although still quite unaware as to why. As he watched Cruxia's form leave the backstage, walking gracefully away from him with each passing second, Nereus couldn't help as if something was going to go terribly wrong with his own interview. It was as if he always knew, always, that there was something wrong, that he had done something wrong and stupid, the nagging suspicion at the back of his head, judging and calling our his every move. He was tired of being so full of self doubt, and could try to trace back his issues to his family situation, but he seldom liked to blame his family for anything wrong with him, for family mattered to him the most.

"Cruxia, we've heard that you and your district partner were not so keen with the proposals of your alliance, and the strategy that they had worked out."

"All groups have their disagreements," she replied calmly, "But we're a team and everything's good. We can work together despite those differences, and i think that's what matters ultimately to form a strong dynamic."

"Certainly. So do you have any particular strategy of your own for the Games?"

"I think all of us have some strategies of our own, but for obvious reasons, we can't really disclose them. The audience deserves that surprise factor."

And she let out a short, lady-like laugh at that, a laugh that was apparently well rehearsed to Nereus' ears. He let out a shaky sigh as the interviewer asked the next question.

"Do you think everything will go as you've planned?"

"That depends on my luck, doesn't it? That factor is always there, but with sheer hard work and proper planning, I'm sure I can curb the effects of luck. After all, putting in the time and effort makes you luckier."

Nereus took a deep breath even as the audience erupted in an applause, the clapping thundering in his ears, and he resisted covering them with the sweaty palms of his hands. It was his turn now, and he reached out for the handkerchief in his pocket, profusely wiping his hands even as his name was called. He inhaled sharply again, stepping forward slowly, still wiping his hands as he walked. He was so lost in thought that he forgot to put the handkerchief in his pocket back again on reaching the stage, even as the audience clapped for him. It was now that he realised that he should have had done it, for the interviewer, his name was Jason probably, forwarded his hand to shake his own, but Nereus was holding his handkerchief. For a second he was stumped as to what to do, and the audience had become silent. However, Jason pulled him in a one arm man hug and got him out of the situation even as he introduced him to the crowd. Nereus sat down on the seat shakily, shutting his eyes tightly, trying to calm down. He was never like this, what was wrong with him? He couldn't quite place it, and even as Jason looked at him with a smile, Nereus set aside his handkerchief, resting his hands on his lap for he didn't know what to do with them.

"Hello Nereus, we're glad to have you here with us!"

"I'm glad to be here too," Nereus replied, smiling at him, "I've been waiting for this moment since a long time."

"You've always planned to volunteer for the glory of winning the Games?"

The way Jason said it bothered Nereus, for that wasn't the reason at all. He had that knowing smile, that sharpness in his eyes, that told Nereus that he knew quite well why he volunteered.

"There… are other reasons as well."

"Like? I think the audience here would want to know that."

And Nereus, Nereus who had always withheld his emotions, his feelings, his thoughts in the past with a finesse very few people were capable of, could not do it anymore. He wanted his story to be heard, and so he started talking, talking his heart out. The murder of his father, the arrest of his step father, him and his sister left fending for themselves, and him volunteering to prove the innocence of Sunil. Jason watched him sadly, almost pitifully, and it was this expression, this sorry state that reflected in his eyes, that made Nereus' voice falter even as he spoke, to the point that it wasn't there.

"Nereus," he continued in a low voice, switching off his mic and speaking quickly after the boy had stopped speaking, "I have to tell you this. And I'm sorry i have to do it here but there's really no other way for you to know. Your father was killed by Nerida, she was the one who planted fake evidence for your step father to be arrested, and she wanted you to volunteer not for proving him innocent but for getting you out of the way to inherit everything that belonged to your father. She's been arrested."

Nereus did not notice when Jason turned his mic back on, or what he said post that about him, all he knew that he was lying. Nerida… his sister couldn't have done that. Nereus _knew_ her, which Jason did not! He had seen the tears in his sister's eyes, the dread of losing their father, the pain of seeing their step father being wrongly convicted. She had been helping him selflessly to cope with all the issues in his life, and Jason was accusing her of plotting all this for some _money_?! Nerida was above that! Nereus stood up at that, his mind as if in an angry trance, and Jason continued to watch him pitifully. Well, he wouldn't look so sad when he would finish him off. Nereus was about to pounce on him, but his arms were grabbed, he was being pulled, and he was screaming his throat raw at Jason, at that monster who was defaming his sister on national television. He struggled against the Peacekeepers trying to fight them off, struggled hard when he was pushed back with the other tributes who were done with their interviews, and a glass door was shut on his face, the door he started banging with his fists.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed, his eyes stinging, for the tears were rolling down his face, ruining his makeup but he did not care. Somebody pulled him away from the glass door into an embrace, and Nereus was sobbing now, sobbing into Cruxia Marshall's shoulder, trembling violently. He felt weak, he felt cheated. The world seemed to have been shattered ruthlessly, and him being left alone to bear the brunt of it. Was the man telling the truth? Was Nerida really arrested? Was she really the culprit?

The matters of the heart were too strong for his usually strong mind to handle. Betrayal from literally anyone, including himself, wouldn't have bothered him so much, but this was his twin, the twin that he loved and cherished the most in the world. He had been used, he realised, and he heard Cruxia scream for the medics even as darkness surrounded him…

* * *

**Kai Jung, 18**

**District Nine Male**

* * *

Well, that had been dramatic.

Kai scoffed as he saw the guy from Four trying to attack the interviewer from his waiting room. How could you be so dense as to not know the kind of people you were living with? If his sister had really plotted all this, Nereus really deserved to go into the Games and be punished for his stupidity in believing her. Jason had not even mentioned it audibly enough; Nereus had ruined his chances by screaming everything. Well, Kai was glad that this episode had played out at all. He was getting bored watching all these dumb brawnies talk and talk and _talk_ nd had wanted some spice, which Nereus had been gracious enough to provide him. He leaned back in his chair, pushing his hair off his handsome face, staring at the screen with a poker face even as that little girl from Five went onto the stage, looking confident and in-control despite all the drama that just happened. Kai rolled his eyes; the child, with her short hair and pretentious confidence was simply annoying, and he wanted nothing more than to smack her on the head, the way he did with all the other kids that were present there, especially that stupid Ark Zagog. He scoffed, that cowardly boy was not even worth a mention in his elite mind.

"Nell, how are you liking the Capitol so far?"

Kai could see the struggle in her eyes as she smiled sweetly at Jason, and saying the words that were certainly not in her thoughts or liking.

"Everything's really cool in the Capitol and I'm really enjoying myself here."

The way it was said sounded as if she wanted to say, 'I _would've_ enjoyed myself here had I not been preparing for a death match.' Kai sniggered at that. Despite everything, being so young and all that is, she had that charm that made Kai root for her in the interview. He was mildly satisfied when she answered the next rhetorical question of 'Are you feeling prepared?' with "Yeah, just like all the twenty-three others have and will say they are."

Kai let out a chuckle at that, unable to stop himself, enamoured by the smiling face that the kid put up, the eyes reflecting a bored feeling that Kai was sure wasn't actually present within her, but she played it well. As Kai watched from the waiting room, Nell continued answering questions in different styles, sometimes sweet, sometimes funny, but mostly tough.

"Any message for your fans out there?"

"Well guys, thanks for all your support and I hope you continue doing so and help me win this."

She was so confident when she said that that even Kai was astounded, staring at the screen with an apprehension about it as the audience applauded. He could see through her façade, she was anything but confident, but the people didn't seem to get that. Well, the people rarely got anything, so he wasn't surprised at the thunderous applause that the kid had garnered. The only issue was that he needed an applause bigger than that now, for no kid, however tolerable they were, should have more applause than Kai Jung.

Dekker's interview was far less impressive. He looked so determined but exhausted at the same time, shrouded in an air of indifference yet nervousness, that Kai frowned, stifling a yawn.

"Are you close to your ally?"

"No, we're not."

"Then…?"

"Yeah, we couldn't find anyone else so we allied with each other. Doesn't mean we have to get close."

Kai laughed out at this blunt interview, the words that were spoken in such an indifferent manner that he could help but be amused. He was even more amused when he saw Akira take the stage, wearing such heavy makeup that he couldn't quite understand what she actually looked like, a dazzling smile on her pretty face, the sundress complimenting her. She sat down gracefully, grinning, playing casually with the gem-laden necklace on her chest.

"I hope you're enjoying your time here."

"Oh yes! Look at all these jewellery and stuff! Honestly, I'm enjoying myself so much! There's that rose scented bath water and various accessories and jewellery and dresses and I'm-I'm- I simply can't ask for more!"

On the other hand, Aron looked quite nonchalant about the whole situation. He was dressed in a handsome suit, hair styled like the most affluent kids of the Capitol, his smile wide enough to look pleasant but not enough to look easy. Yet, the eyes betrayed it all.

"We all want to know this Aron do you see a friend in Akira?"

"Definitely," he replied, the smile still in place, fixed in the likeness of a man of wax, "Akira and I are good friends, and we're going to take this journey together, as a team."

Pretence, all pretence. One look at him and Kai knew that he was no friend of the luxury-loving girl. He was playing the angle, the angle of a charming young boy who had a pretty, albeit stupid, friend into the Games. However hard he would try though, he couldn't fool the eyes of Kai Jung, the eyes that had seen betrayal and deceit in every facet of his life.

Calista looked stunning in her knee length lime green dress, and she had a smile as bright as the sun on her face, a smile that was making Kai wonder why it was there in the first place, for no person could be so delighted at the prospect of their own death. It was more than just a prospect for her as far as he was concerned, for he could not fathom her surviving past the bloodbath despite whatever everyone thought of her, what she herself thought of her. She might be trying to play a game, but Kai could see it now, see it clearly as the day itself, that the girl from Seven was terrified to the core.

"Calista, the audience would like to know whether you're ready and prepared for the challenge ahead."

"Oh yes, I'm prepared for the Games. My ally and I are a strong team, and I'm sure we can tackle this challenge together."

Kai scoffed. Yeah right, together. Everyone knew that the Games was not a team-oriented activity. There could be only one winner, only one, and having 'friends' or as they called it 'allies' in the Games would only lead to weakness and a possible defeat, unless of course those 'friends' were means to the gains. Looking at Calista though, Kai didn't think it was the case for her.

Poor Ark Zagog was skittish as he walked onto the stage, his small frame looking even more miniscule on the large stage. Kai didn't know what was bothering him, but he kept looking at the audience, the audience that was clapping loudly, and he stood frozen for a second too long, until Jason went to escort him to the seat himself. Kai sniggered at the discomfort of the child, but the smile was wiped off his face when one appeared on Zagog's small face instead.

"Do you have any allies?"

"No, not yet. I'm keeping my options flexible, but as of now I don't really require any such assistance."

Don't require any such assistance? Kai laughed out at that even as Ark continued answering questions, mostly with a brave face even if his voice faltered a couple of times. It was blithely amusing to Kai, the state of the child who had to pretend to be strong, his mannerisms screaming at the audience to help him out of the mess that would be the arena. But nobody was going to help him, and probably he knew it too, Kai couldn't tell.

Calista's sweet ally, Estefania Sanchez looked breathtakingly beautiful, to the extent that Kai couldn't help but stare. She had that shy yet gorgeous smile, a woman of grace and absolutely no fighter by any means. Kai watched, almost transfixed, as she took her seat, a lovely laugh escaping those petal-like lips, and he sighed. She was Cupid for a reason, for he was enchanted by her beauty and style while she maintained her simplicity, and Kai let out another longing sigh as he looked on at the screen with anticipation for answers that would make him want to root for her; he had already made up his mind halfway to do so.

"Cupid, what is it that you desire?"

She let out a sad chuckle and replied simply, "Love."

"Love? Why, that's interesting! Would you like to share why love in particular?"

"Back home, I worked as a matchmaker. It wasn't a job, just something I liked to do, to unite two lovers. Alas, I have never had someone love me."

And she shrugged sadly.

Kai had the urge to do something that he had never had the urge to do; embrace her. This very thought disgusted him, for her knew how weak that thought was, how it was bad for him, but he couldn't help it. He _felt_ for her, and that was just pathetic in every way possible.

He was here to win, after all.

"Kespar, Dekker said a while ago that you two chose to ally just because there were no other options left. Is that true?"

Kai watched keenly as Kespar chuckled at that, his posture a little too relaxed for Kai's taste. He leaned back in the comfortable sofa and regarded Jason with a smile.

"I think that reply may be partially true, but not completely. Yes, most people had made alliances by the time we interacted, but we gel so well together that I am sure we would have chosen each other regardless of that."

Ah, correcting the wrongs of your partner! How smart! Kai clapped delicately, his slender fingers tapping his palm soundlessly, even as he shut his eyes dramatically and smiled. He got to his feet soon after, for it was Dakota's turn next, and then his, and his emotions were beyond comprehension right now.

Dakota was greeted with a polite applause, nothing in the likeness of the uproar that had been Cupid's or Nell's. Kai was standing backstage now, unable to see anything, but he heard Jason greet her with a mirthful voice, and she replying as gracefully. It seemed to kai that she had recovered from her little trauma, and he was glad about it. Whining people never sat well with him.

"You look stunning tonight, Dakota!"

"Thank you! My prep team has worked really hard on this dress."

Kai scoffed. It was their _job_ to work hard on dresses. What was so special about that? He couldn't understand people like her, people who tried to express gratitude at places where there was no need for it. He simply shrugged, for what else could he do, and flicked his hair.

"Are you enjoying yourself here?"

"Plenty! I mean, what's not to like? There's good food, good people, luxurious facilities most of us have never seen, and of course, the impending excitement of fighting in the arena!"

Kai guffawed at the sugar-coated sarcasm, for she had him in the first half, he wouldn't lie. He was more and more convinced that the two of them needed to ally, for the two of them would be the ideal team against the demons, the brats, the proletariat and the rest.

"The citizens of Panem would love to know about your culture and heritage, Dakota."

"Oh! Well, I'm a citizen of Panem and my culture is their culture and their culture is my culture, so I don't think there's anything to know about."

And that was how she avoided answering about her ancient Indian heritage. Kai was unsure as to why she did it, for he had always thought, looking at her, that she would be someone who would indulge in talking about her heritage and folktales and stuff, but she completely shrugged off the question about it.

Well, it seemed that the crowd loved her witty replies, for they were applauding with profound energy and enthusiasm, the very halls echoing with the deafening sound, and it continued even as Kai stepped up onto the stage after adjusting his tie one last time, a bright smile on his gorgeous face, and he greeted Jason like an old friend with a hug.

The initial few questions were simple and redundant, the same things that he was asking everyone. How was he liking it, what did he like in the Capitol, etc. Kai just answered briskly, a smile plastered on his face, not really paying attention, for his eyes were on the crowd, the crowd that did not seem to be hanging onto his every word…

"What did you do back home?"

"I'm glad you asked this, Jason," he said brightly, winking, hoping in his heart that this answer would garner the attention of the audience, even if it was due to sheer stupidity and not a positive interest, "I work at a Haunted House, as a skeleton!"

"A skeleton?!"

"Yes indeed, my dear Jason. A skeleton. And that was when I first saw Dakota, the amazing classy girl who had been there with her little sister, and look! Fate had us to be District partners here!"

"That's an amazing story! Since you already know Dakota, what do you think of her?"

"I mean, she has class and status and a great personality. I like her!"

"And what if she was not a woman of class and status? Would you still like her?"

Kai stopped, looking at Jason with a frown, and was returned with the same. Was he trying to get him to say something that would work against him? What would be the answer anyway? He did appreciate Dakota's personality but would he do so if she were a poor brat? Well, he reasoned, she wouldn't be so cool if she were poor.

"I'd like her still," he answered evenly, meeting his eyes confidently, and Jason, in turn, raised his brows.

"Why did you take so long to think over your answer then?"

Kai clenched his fists, his heart leaping at the man like a predator pounces on its prey, wanting to punch him on his face, but he smiled instead, smiled like the fake gentleman he knew he wasn't, for all gentlemen were fake and people bought their persona, and answered, "It took me a while to comprehend that you asked me such silly question."

And thankfully for Jason, for surely the man had no answer to his jibe, the time was up, and Kai stood up gracefully, gave a side hug to the man he had just defeated even as the crowd cheered with his beguiling name on their lips, and he parted ways with the interviewer and the stage, walking away.

So overall, it had gone well. What else could he have expected from himself? A lousy performance? Ha! Even the notion of it was laughable to its core; Kai Jung could _never_ give a lousy performance, and he knew it, the public knew it, and now even the country knew it.

He sat down on the other side of the backstage on a plush cushion, smirking lightly, ignoring the weak-minded individuals that surrounded him. Sadly, he would have to wait here throughout the rest of the interviews, and he was already bored, for what entertainment value could these remaining people provide _him_?

Well, he was obviously wrong.

"What's your favourite colour?"

Wait what? Why would Jason ask _that_? He had not asked anyone such a silly question, and even Avni looked flabbergasted at it by the stupidity of it. She rearranged her features quickly and smiled, replying, "Brown."

"Oh, brown is indeed a lovely colour."

What was happening? Kai sat up straight, the smirk gone, as he watched the television, even as Jason asked whether she was enjoying herself in the Capitol. And that was when all hell broke loose, for kai would never understand why she did it, but she simply stood up, quietly trembling in mad rage, her voice not rising above a whisper, and he would have been unable to hear her had it not been for the mic.

"I won't allow you to make a mockery out of me!"

And with that, she stormed off the stage, disappearing backstage, right into the hall where Kai was even as everyone stared, and she walked past. Kai saw Rook hesitate for a second, but then he followed her to wherever she was going, taking the drama quotient even higher. Kai let out a low whistle, even as the low lives around him gave him a look of apparent disgust, which was obviously a disguise for their envy but eh. He turned back to the screen, ready to enjoy himself.

Jet was rather unfazed by the whole turn of events, and sat down with a poker face, not shaking Jason's hand. The interviewer brushed it off with a smile, but Jet kept a blank face, looking so bored that even Kai couldn't help but yawn.

"Do you like your allies?"

"They're fine."

"We have seen that you and Avni get along well. Why didn't you two ally?"

Jet simply shrugged, not deeming him with a response, and it wasn't even intentional. Kai giggled throughout the interview due to Jason's awkwardness and Jet's blank expressions, and he could feel people heaving a sigh of relief when the arduous interview was finally over. Jason gave him a fake smile, and that was when Jet finally spoke up, "Don't do that." And it was this event that made Kai laugh so hard that he went on a coughing fit, with Dakota bringing him a glass of water, a look of disdain in her eyes, but he did not care. Yet, he got control of himself when Cupid gave him that look. He cleared his throat and turned away, not wanting to appear like a heartless git to this stranger girl, even if he saw nothing wrong with being a heartless git.

And then he saw Jason ask the most mockful question ever, for he asked Belladonna how she felt about her District partner, and she told him, loud and clear, that he was no good.

"He's rude! He's such a moron…good for nothing…I don't know what he thinks of himself…There are _so_ many people who are better than him but he's on his high horse…I don't know what he is so proud of…Useless idiot…Has no sense…"

And obviously, poor Jason could not get in another question, even as the buzzer told him that Bell's time was up but she was in no mood to stop. She did not stop until Jason gave her a hug and sent her off with Peacekeepers, and Kai shook his head wisely. She wasted her _entire_ interview ranting about Basileus, and that was a foolish move even by her standards.

At least it was entertaining.

But what was even more amusing to his bored heart was when Basileus came on the stage- ranting. He sat down with a huff, and shook Jason's hand as if he would break his fingers, so tight was his grip. Kai slapped his lap, laughing hard, even as Basileus started ranting again, not allowing Jason to get a question in.

"She's such a ***… always complaining… unsatisfied… ungrateful… how can anyone be so conceited… Useless idiot… she's nice when she's quiet though… I am afraid she might become quiet forever being the witch that she is… of course she's friendless… who rants about their district partner to the world… disgusting human…"

Irony died when he said that particular phrase, and even Jason let out a chuckle, a very small one, but it was there nonetheless. And Basileus, he was oblivious to the world, the mockery that he was making of himself, and whenever Jason opened his mouth to ask him something else, he simply interrupted him again and ranted. He was so angry and so passionate that ultimately Jason gave up, letting him speak his heart out, leaving his throat raw and sore, but it was worth it to Kai because this had to be the most entertaining interview in the history of entertaining interviews, and Basil did not stop even when he was escorted off the stage. He walked into the hall where Kai was, and Belladonna got up with a jump, rushing at Basileus and grabbing his collar roughly, before slamming him into the floor.

"What's going on?" a Peacekeeper exclaimed, even as Basil and Bell started fighting tooth and nail, she punching his jaw, he kicking her stomach, she digging her nails in his arm, and he pulling her hair with brute force. Tributes scattered away from them, and Peacekeepers intervened, pulling them both away from each other, even as they struggled in their grasps, kicking the air with such sharpness as if it had been cut, and they were dragged away into separate broom cupboards and locked in.

"_What _was that?" Cupid exclaimed, "Why is everything so explosive all of a sudden?"

Josephine slapped her forehead with a sigh, and muttered about Basil being Basil.

"They just hate each other," Kespar muttered, sitting back down on the sofa, exhaling slowly as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Or…" Cupid said, her eyes gleaming and large, and Kai hung onto her every word, for it must be important, "Maybe, maybe they're in _love_!"

Napoleon spewed the water that he had just taken a sip of, going into a coughing fit even as Jupiter slapped his back to stop him from choking. Kespar turned to Cupid with raised brows, giving her _that_ look, even as little Ark let out a meek chuckle.

And now everyone was laughing and giggling, and Cupid was blushing and giggling too. It was this moment that made Kai feel something that he'd never felt before.

Dread.

The dread of fighting to the death, the dread of killing others to survive, the dread of murdering people he was laughing with at this moment. And the next day… he shuddered. He couldn't afford to show this weakness, but he was trembling, he was worried, and he wanted to leave this hall all of a sudden, not wanting to see these people any more. He forced his eyes away from the people he would have to kill, his throat arid as the driest of deserts, and could catch only a glimpse of Lyanna's interview.

Jason, being the mindless fool that he was, asked her, "Your family sounds lovely! I'm sure they must be proud of you to see you here, going so strong."

Lyanna gave him the ghostliest smile she could have had mustered and replied in a very tight voice, "Yeah, _very._"

"So, uh…" his faltered, before he cleared his throat and smiled again, "How did you become allies with Josephine?"

"Oh, it just happened. We were both looking for allies, and I loved how she stood up for her beliefs, whereas I'm sure she must have seen something in me too. So, we just came together for this."

Kai sniggered when he saw Cairn get on the stage, for he was trembling just a bit, nervous looking over his shoulder again and again, and he sat down with a fidgeting smile. Jason shook his hand with a bright smile, complimenting how fine he looked and how the audience must be loving him, and it seemed to put him at ease. Kai scoffed; nobody would be looking at the boy from Twelve when _he_ was available to be looked at.

"Cairn, do you have anyone waiting back home for you?"

The boy smiled, and replied in a low tone, the tone of a person who was naturally shy and soft spoken, "I have my father and my friend back home and I'm eager to see them."

"And… anyone special?"

Cairn blushed furiously at that, his cheeks turning the shade of red, and Jason teased him over it, till he became even more shy, smiling and blushing.

"Um… no."

"Oh come on! There's definitely _someone_ there!"

"I… don't know," he replied honestly, still blushing, "I don't know what it is, so I can't- I can't really say."

There were people who went 'aww' at that, making Kai roll his eyes even as the crowd applauded for the final tribute even as he left and Jason was clapping too as he stood up, beaming at the crowd and the cameras. Well, thankfully the whole ordeal was over. Kai admitted that it was hilarious at times, but he was exhausted. He got up to leave, when Jason spoke.

"Guys, before we leave, I have an important announcement to make."

Kai stopped, everyone else stopped, turning to the screen. Kai's heart was beating fast now; what could the announcement be? Was it… he swallowed hard. Could they be killing them off right here?! Would they bring their families here to be 'a part of the Games'?! Kai was breathing hard now, for he was terrified, terrified of what could be the matter.

"As you all know, these games are new, these Games are special. These are bigger and better and are an honest attempt to revive our culture. We honour this tradition, and we respect our citizens. We have decided that, this year-"

Kai's heart was racing as he stared at the screen, the silence deafening even as Jason paused for an effect, and he needed it to be over soon, he needed to know…

"-there shall be _two victors_, irrespective of their district, gender and other categories. The last two remaining tributes will be crowned victors."

Someone screamed among the tributes but otherwise everyone was quiet. Kai couldn't believe what he had just heard. Two victors… last two… irrespective of gender and district…

Why, he suddenly had a better chance at it!

* * *

**Akira Tuktuk, 16**

**District Six Female**

* * *

Akira was exhausted.

She let out a long sigh as she sat down on her bed, slowly taking off her necklace. Usually, parties energised her, but now that night. The post interview party had sickened her to the core, for she could not shake off the thought that they were celebrating for their own deaths, a harsh truth that nobody seemed to understand. Or perhaps they did, she mused, but just did not want to accept it.

Acceptance of her reality was hard right now, and Akira could swear that she was about to burst into tears. Unsurprisingly, she did just that, her black mascara mixing with her tears and rolling down her pale cheeks. She did not want to die.

That thought, so basic at its core, was so powerful that it made Akira brush away her tears with a quiet rage, smearing her face with the mascara, and for the first time in her life she did not care. Her lips quivered as she cried, even as she pulled out the chain of her dress with her slender hand, while wiping her tears with the other.

She went into the bathroom and started washing her face, eyes puffy. She showered next, standing there silently, thinking about everything bad that could happen, mainly her dying. There were so many things that she had not seen, not done. With the travel ban lifted and her discovering that there was a world outside of Panem… she wanted to see it. She wanted to see the world. And now she couldn't because some random people showed up and said that they'd have to fight to the death, being as cruel as before, except that they decided to spare two lives instead but what of it? How could she know she was one of those two? She was howling now, leaning against the wall, and sank to the floor even as the water continued washing over her, and she howled and howled even as her throat ached and her vocal cords begged her to stop, but she didn't for she was devastated. Her cries were so loud that it attracted a visitor, and even in this state she noticed the door opening. She quickly reached out for the towel and wrapped it around herself even as Aron stepped in, a thin plastic curtain separating them.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice devoid of concern and his eyes not shying away at all, neither were they abrasive. The very fact that he asked though moved Akira, and she called out, coughing.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she replied, but she knew it was a big lie and thus she choked on her voice. However, her embarrassment knew no bounds when Aron pulled away the curtain stepping in and turning the shower off.

Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the boy and she let out a scream but Aron, just like his reaction to everything else, was unfazed. Akira yelped when he grabbed her shoulders, but he did nothing, looking into her eyes solemnly, not acting like the other boys back home did. Akira blinked as Aron repeated his question.

"Are you okay?"

And despite himself, a sliver of concern flashed through his eyes, an emotion that Akira had never thought he would exhibit, and she started crying again, for she was feeling shattered.

"I-I don't want to… I don't…"

And she sobbed.

Was it wise to show weakness to a competitor even if he was her ally? The doubt slithered into her mind and she tried to regain composure, for she had to look impassive. And yet, she did not brush off Aron's hands off her shoulders, letting them stay for the comfort that they provided regardless.

"I know Akira, I don't want to die too."

Aron sighed and looked down at the floor, before looking back into her eyes again, a resolve of steel reflecting in those beautiful orbs, and he spoke with an emotion that she just could not associate with him: kindness.

"None of us wants to die Akira. But- but look at it. We can have two victors. _Two_!"

"I know but that means nothing. I'll not survive and neither will you because- because we'll be hunted and- and- and-"

"And nothing," he said, his voice urgent, "Akira, you're not getting it! Two victors! An alliance can win!"

"But what use is that?"

Akira was grieving for her own precious self, and was oblivious to the point that the boy was trying to make. Or maybe it was an act, a pretence to look harmless, Aron would never know. regardless, he shook her hard as if this mere action would force the universe into knocking sense into her dense brain, and spoke, "_We_ are an alliance Akira! We can get out of this together!"

It was as if Ms Tuktuk had achieved enlightenment, for her eyes shone bright as bulbs, her mouth agape and it turned to form a pretty 'O'. it took her more than a few seconds to absorb this possibility, for it was a possibility that could never crawl into her tiny brain, but she could see it clearly now, so clearly that she was disgusted that she didn't see it sooner, and she let out a cry.

"Oh _YES!_"

"Exactly," Aron replied, a slight smile on his face, his composure as calm as always, "So I think you shouldn't worry right now at least and try to get some sleep and-"

He never got to complete his sentence, because a very wet Akira leapt at him, hugging him tightly, drenching his clothes too, and he seemed so taken aback by it that he gasped. She held on to him, burying her face in his neck and sobbed.

"Oh Aron thank you _so_ much!"

"Uh, welcome?"

"You're honestly so smart and nice and I really appreciate you came for me and talked to me and you're just so awesome in general!"

"Uh…"

"We're going to win this thing and go back home victorious, you and I, and we'll live together a life of luxury and beauty."

"Well, sure," he replied, having regained his composure, "Unless, of course, you rob me again by hugging me the way you're doing now."

And Akira laughed out at that, her first genuine laugh in what felt like an eternity, and released Aron, who was smiling lightly.

"I won't steal from you again. Promise!"

"Don't worry, I know to be cautious now," he smirked.

"Oh and I'm sorry for wetting you!"

"It's alright, I'll go and change. And you, uh…"

It was as if it now dawned on him the situation that they were in, something that even Akira had forgotten, and Aron fled from there quickly even as she laughed. As the door shut back again, she sighed and leaned against the wall once more. Aron was right, they could get out of this alive, both of them. It would be better to tackle this problem as a team.

Maybe, just maybe, her chances weren't so bad after all.

* * *

**AT LAST THIS CHAPTER IS DONE YESSS!**

**So, hello guys! I know it's been a long while since I last updated, but it was honestly hard to write this chapter due to the very nature of it. That, along with my countless assignments, had made it difficult for me to find inspiration AND time to write this, but we're finally here. No, it wasn't hard for me because of the tributes, I love them, but interviews in general are something tedious for me to write, and that was the reason I had stopped writing them long ago. I decided to give it a try again and it was tough, so I don't think I'll do it again, but it was ultimately fun too. I want to thank Santiago for helping me with the interviews, it really helped me speed things up. I'm also apologetic about the uneven size of the POVs here, especially Kai's, but this is only because his and Nereus' POVs were all about interviews, so they were long. **

**As for the number of questions asked per tribute, which is uneven, it was decided based on who sent their second check ins. I couldn't write all interviews to be of same length because it would be even more arduous, so I decided that submitters who submitted a second check in will have their tributes have longer interviews. The difference was actually not all that much, but that was the idea.**

**I've also announced the twist of this Games, which is not really all that unique but I think it works perfectly here. I've been waiting to do that since the first introduction chapter lol.**

**I'd also like to give a shout out to Red Roses 1000. She has a really nice story, a modern Hunger Games SYOT. I don't know whether it's full yet, but please do check it out!**

**Next chapter, we'll catch up with the Five, and then we'll have the bloodbath, so we're really close. And this brings me to the third check in for this story. The question is: What place will your tribute like as a holiday destination? Please PM me the answer, with the PM titled as Check In 3 so that I don't miss out on messages.**

**Finally, I know this chapter wasn't as good as it could have been. It was dragging and repetitive at places and I know it might not be completely satisfactory, but I still hope you guys enjoyed. It is also a good time to hear your placement predictions! :D**

**Alliances: **

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista**

**This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet**

**Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook**

**I Kind of Dislike You: Kespar, Dekker**

**Have a great day! And please stay safe and healthy!**

**PS: Okay, so Kai's POV is like a whole chapter in itself XD I had thought about showing Jason's perspective, but I thought Kai's would be more entertaining because, well, Kai. XD**


	22. Chapter 22

**Bloodbath**

* * *

**Belladonna "Bell" Betony, 18**

**District Eleven Female**

* * *

There were things that were keeping Bell up the whole night, even as the universe slept on.

Memories and instances that crept into her already volatile thoughts, sneakily chasing away any sweet tendrils of sleep and drowsiness. Her eyes flew open as she stared at the dark ceiling, except that she could see nothing, and the darkness was the only companion of her silent tears, tears of sadness and frustration and worthlessness and hatred and every other negative word that she couldn't think of at the moment, for she was busy feeling bad. It was not without reason, indeed, things were going for a toss, and she wondered again why she had wanted to be in the Games in the first place. her wish had been granted, she had been Reaped, but would her wish be granted if she truly desired to come back alive out of this mess? Her fingers curbed around her sheets as she pulled them up to her neck, like a child as frightened as one that was lost and distanced from their parents, and she was trembling due to that same fright, for she missed home.

But was there really anything to miss? She recalled with a vivid clarity how her friends always belittled her, never listening to what she had to say, ignored her very existence to the point that she started seeking attention in any way she could. Her parents had work, a lot of work, and could not give her time. Nobody in this wide world could give her time other than herself, and even she ended up being unkind to herself by taking numerous efforts to please those petty creatures that she was surrounded with.

When her life was most likely about to end, she regretted having so many regrets in life, and it was what made her cry harder, sobbing and pulling the sheet to cover her head too, for the cold air of the air conditioner was making her shiver, but when was she going to experience such cool rooms again? Probably never, so she didn't turn it off, and kept shivering and crying under the sheet till she decided she needed a blanket. The warmth of the woollen beauty couldn't take the coldness away, nor could it make her sleep, and she sighed in exasperation as memories kept on flooding her conscience, making her regret a new thing every single second. She was exhausted by this drama, and she called out for anyone who would listen, but obviously, as usual, nobody answered her distressed cries. She kicked the bed in frustration, sitting up quickly, and ran over to the floor to ceiling window, pushing the curtains away with such an aggression that it got ripped off, and she opened the window and stepped into the balcony.

The city was dark and gloomy, unlike the beauty that she had heard of. It was almost as if people were trying to go unnoticed, in stark contrast to her own self, and she frowned as she was met with nothing but scary silhouettes of large skyscrapers. There was no sign of life anywhere, and why would there be? Bell was aware that nobody else in the Capitol would be as tensed as she was, as the tributes were, for they could just relax at home and be happy that they're somewhat safe even in the new regime. She envied their safety, the fact that they had so much and she so little, that these families might have love amongst them, and here she was, the most wretched, the loneliest and the most pitiable creature in the world.

She thought about jumping off the balcony. It would do what was about to happen to her a little faster. She pondered on whether anyone would miss her. Family? Probably… but they were never proud of her, not that she had done anything worth feeling proud of. Friends… She had none. As she remembered how none of the people that she cared for visited her when she was handed her death sentence, tears clouded her eyes and her throat was choking. Was she really so bad that she didn't deserve a single friend? A single loving person? She was highly tempted to finish things off now, for who would miss her? But then she recalled the force fields that were put in place, and she knew her damaged heart couldn't deal with another failed attempt at anything, even if it was reaching her quickly. She sighed in annoyance and screamed into the silence, her shrill voice piercing the deadly quietness of the night as if cut by the sharpest of knives, and it was this action that satisfied her a bit, just a little bit, but it was something.

She was panting hard, heaving, taking in deep breaths, and she screamed again, screamed obscenities at the Five and her 'friends' and her family and everyone who could hear her at 4 AM. She did not know how she would meet her end, but she hoped that it would be quick and painless, for she did not know hope. The lack of it was motivated her to scream even further, until her throat was raw and hurting, and she promptly collapsed on the floor, lying down still as she stared at the starry sky through blurry eyes, and she whimpered as she remembered Basileus, who was definitely out to kill her. She wasn't as oblivious as people believed her to be, and she knew he was out for revenge. However, she did not know whether she would be able to save herself… or even try to. She did not know, she did not care, and it was probably this thought, this thought of not giving a damn about the future, that calmed her down, calmed her enough for her to fall asleep in the balcony, for she had been tired all along.

Fortunately, there were no dreams.

* * *

**Estefania "Cupid" Sanchez, 18**

**District Eight Female**

* * *

Cupid couldn't handle it anymore.

The pressure, the impending doom, the mental countdown… it was breaking her apart. Her heart raced a little faster, her mind a little more turbulent, and her breathing a little more ragged. She was exhausted, exhausted with everything that was happening, and she was wide awake. How could she sleep? How could anyone who was about to be robbed of everything?!

She was on the common balcony at the moment, up on the fourteenth floor, and she was not alone. She threw a sideways glance at the boy who had single handedly annoyed the whole training centre, who could spit nothing but venom, and who looked really tensed…

They were not far apart, but Cupid noticed that his gaze was strong whenever he looked at her. It wasn't often that he did so, his eyes mostly scanning the starry skies and he himself basked in the gentle moonlight, but he looked different now. More… genuine.

She blinked, realising that she was staring hard, and turned away to look at the streets beneath her, deserted and devoid of life. Cupid bit her lip, for she couldn't help what kind of a person Kai Jung was in reality, behind the appearance of an obnoxious idiot. He had managed the interviews well, he had been pleasant enough with her despite being arrogant towards everyone else, and Cupid was sure that there was a layer underneath all this over the top drama, a layer that she was increasingly curious about.

And then she recalled why she was there in the first place, and her heart tightened in her chest again even as her grip on the railing became stronger, her eyes glaring at the sky. She did not deserve this, she did not deserve to die. None of them did, and the unfairness of the situation pressed on her so hard that she broke into a sob, for she was _tired. _

"Don't cry."

Cupid was taken aback by the voice, for it sounded eerie in that deafening silence that clouded around her, and she looked up at her companion, who had not bothered to glance at her.

She ignored his words, for why would he care about what she did, and continued weeping quietly for what felt like a few blissful seconds, before Kai ordered her again to stop crying.

She was angry now, a rarity for Cupid, and she finally faced him in totality, eyes burning even as the tears stung, but she wasn't about to back down.

"What is it to you?!" she demanded in her soulful voice, even as it cracked, for she was still an emotional mess at best, and she continued to look at him as he turned to face her, his face haughty in the likeness of a king, and he folded his arms across his chest.

"I don't like seeing you cry."

"What?"

"I mean _anyone _crying. It's annoying."

Kai turned away at that, averting his gaze, and Cupid's ears perked up despite themselves, for she could _smell _it, and she tiptoed to him, her earlier predicament pushed to the back of her mind.

"You were saying?"

"Nothing!"

"Oh come on! Tell me!"

Kai glanced at her for a second then looked away, and because Cupid was _Cupid, _she spotted the colour in his cheeks in the absence of light as well, and she gasped aloud, clapping her hands to her face.

"Oh my goodness, you like someone…_here_?!"

"Who's here worth liking?"

"Everyone is worthy of love! That's what's so beautiful about it!"

"I don't like things that are so common and mundane."

"it's simplicity is its beauty!"

"If it's so nice and all, why don't _you_ have love?"

It wasn't a jibe, it wasn't a mockery. Cupid was surprised to sense the genuine curiosity in Kai's voice, the voice of a person who probably did not understand love but was completely capable of it. She took in a shaky breath, for how was she supposed to explain it to someone like him, who'd proven that he wasn't interested in understanding anything?

"I…"

Kai just looked at her, an inquisitive frown on his face as he regarded her.

"I don't swing any way."

"What?" he asked, confused. Cupid could gather that he did not understand and she did not blame him, she hadn't really been very clear about it, so she started again.

"Most people desire a physical connection when they're in love. I… Don't. I just want simple love, with hugs and cuddles and telling each other everything and baring the soul, not the body. I- it's been hard to find someone who would accept me and my love the way it is and not, you know-"

"You're a romantic asexual?"

Cupid looked into his eyes with higher clarity now… She'd been going round and round with her words because she had underestimated his power of understanding such things, and she realised how wrong she was. He got it, he got what she wanted and desired with all her heart, and she bit her lip even as he tilted his head.

"Well, your situation sucks because most people just want to… ButBut I'm sure you'll find someone who's worthy of you and your love, since it means so much to you."

"I won't find anyone," she whispered, "I'm not getting out of this alive, I know it. Plus, nobody takes me seriously anyway, when I tell them I don't want a physical relationship."

She didn't continue further, for it echoed in her mind how many times she'd heard that 'her beauty was wasted if she didn't like it' and how she hated that line. She admitted she was somewhat pretty, but being pretty was not the only thing going for her! She didn't want to spell out her struggles with love to a stranger, she'd done that enough for the night.

"Then those people are not worthy of you."

Cupid looked up, startled, even as Kai leaned against the balcony wall, his hair gently swaying in the night breeze, and there was a slight smile on his face.

"You're a decent girl Cupid. You deserve better. You deserve what you desire because you're-you're good."

He stepped closer to her even as she felt a warm feeling in her heart, a slightly happy feeling. She hadn't delved into it much before, not because she was uncomfortable, but because people just couldn't understand when she tried to explain. And here, the most unexpected stranger got it in a few moments… Life was indeed a strange adventure.

"If I'd known you," Kai started haughtily, "I would never turn you away. You're a gem in a field of garbage."

And he walked away from there, not saying another word, and Cupid turned around to see his retreating form, his words playing in her mind again and again. That had been a weird way to put a compliment, a typical Kai way from what she'd seen, but… Did he really say what she thought he said?

Her lower lip quivered as she tried to hold the tears in, and she shut her eyes as the words continued to echo in her mind. It was a great feeling, the feeling of acceptance even if it was from a person who put on such an arrogant persona, but it meant a lot. She was sad too, because there was no future for her, but she was glad that there were people who understood, who accepted.

Maybe Cupid would die deprived of love, but somewhere in the world, some Estefania Sanchez would be loved by someone for who they were.

* * *

**Ark Zagog, 12**

**District Seven Male**

* * *

Ark had been unable to swallow a single morsel of his breakfast, much to the annoyance of his mentor/escort. His mind was racing and he was petrified even as his mind played tricks on him. It made him think of lightning, of loud sounds and waters that drown the mightiest of surfers, and needless to say, he was not having a good time.

He had not managed to get allies. He had not managed to impress in the private sessions or the interviews or in any other way possible, being uninteresting throughout, and he regretted it.

He was changing his attire now, into the strangest arena outfit he'd ever seen. It was so plain, so regular, that he had a hard time believing they were going to fight in it. It was just a turtle neck T shirt and rather flexible leggings, along with a very warm jacket and long boots, and even as Ark put these on, he realised how surprisingly light these clothes were. It would make running easier to be honest, much easier and Ark cheered up for a second… and then he remembered that Careers will find it easy too. His shoulders slumped at that even as despair clutched his tiny, fluttering heart and he buried his face in his hands, trying to block out all the negativity. However, it was not in the nature of pessimism and hopelessness to back down, and they attacked him with twice their might, until Ark just broke down. He missed his parents, he missed Nathan, and he was sure his brother missed him too. Ark wished he could hold his hand for comfort, for Nathan's presence always gave him the strength to carry forward, but without him… well, it was hard for Ark to collect himself.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself for what was to come, for Ark did not believe in simply giving up, when the sudden sound startled him.

"Attention tributes! Please stand on your pedestals."

Ark gave a squeal of terror, and he wanted nothing more than to run, run far, far away from this land of misery and fear, and he instinctively, he rushed for the door, trying to pull it open but to no avail.

"Please let me out!" he cried out, banging his tiny fists on the door, but nobody heard his pleas, nobody heeded his cries and he kept on punching the door as if he could magically break it.

"Attention tributes! Please get on your pedestals. We're about to launch."

"NOOO!"

He wasn't going to get on it. Probably, there was a chance he'd survive if he didn't? Ark honestly did not have an answer to it, but he was not going to stop on, not going to step on it, not going to-

The door swung open inwards, and Ark yelped as two very burly men marched in, and lifted him up straight off the floor. He struggled hard, bit on their hands, but they were unaffected by everything. He cried out, kicking in the air, pleading to them, but they roughly threw him on the pedestal, and even as he stood up clumsily to get off, the glass tube started to ascend around him.

Ark felt suffocated, as if somebody had grabbed his windpipe and was crushing it, and he yelled at anyone who would listen to stop this. Ark started hitting the glass, his punches as hard as he could muster, but the glass held on firmly, each punch breaking his heart, destroying his hope little by little, raising his desperation exponentially. His small fists were glistening with the shade of red, but he did not stop, smearing the glass with the same red, staining it with his innocent blood.

The tube was rising as if he were rising when about to be hanged, and he shut his eyes for he did not want to see. After what felt like an eternity and a few seconds at the same time, the pedestal came to a halt. He could feel the glass walls going back in almost soundlessly, and he was hit by a warm gust of find, almost pushing him and that terrified him even further for he knew what happened to those who fell off the pedestals…

He opened his eyes slowly, the strong sun making him shut them again quickly even as he covered them with his bloodied hands, before squinting again.

He had expected an open arena just because those were popular, but this wasn't something he had imagined. The grey pathways that led in all directions, the massive structures piercing the bluest sky he'd seen in his life, the dust that flew around him, the lush green grass that lay beneath his pedestal, the most calming thing around him, and he turned around to see swings nearby, painted in a pastel yellow and lime green, as if to the fancy of a child, and he saw a large arched gate, intricately crafted designs on it. The buildings were huge, and seemed to be created out of metals and materials he couldn't quite place, reflecting the sunlight in ways that threatened to blind him. Everything was in an almost sickening order, like a futuristic hospital, and Ark felt bile rising to his throat as he took in the various neon colours that surrounded him. As he looked past the gate, he noticed cars, cars that he'd never seen in Seven but definitely noticed in television commercials. In this extremely ultra modern place, this green park was the only thing he could relate to, the only thing with natural colours, and he suddenly knew where he was.

Ark frowned at the choice of the arena, for none of the Games had ever done something like this. Yes, there had been cities before, cities that were ruined, cities that were little more than villages where facilities were concerned, cities that were just barren buildings and houses, cities that existed within the Districts.

The arena… He knew what it was. The Five were mocking those who were in power earlier by doing what they had done, for Ark Zagog was in no ordinary city; he was in the Capitol itself.

"The countdown is about to begin. It is requested that tributes don't step off their pedestals before they are asked to."

The sound had startled Ark, and he almost lost his footing, before regaining his balance. His frightened gazed at the heap of stuff that was placed on the centre point from all their platforms on a raised circular metallic platform of its own. The cornucopia… He saw the bags that were placed neatly. He saw the medical kits. He saw the weapons. But would these things really help him survive?

He gulped hard and turned his gaze away rather forcefully, only to see that he had Jupiter on his right… And he looked mean. He turned the other way and saw, with further dismay, Basileus looking as mean as well.

As the top ten countdown began, Ark realised that he had no hope. He was sandwiched between two of the most brutal people he knew.

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

And at once, all chaos broke loose.

* * *

**Dekker Mattson, 18**

**District Five Male**

* * *

Dekker was not prepared for the chaos that ensued despite reminding himself for the past few days of what was to happen.

There was something morbid yet surreal about the situation, the city as beautiful as he had imagined it, for the tributes had seen nothing other than the Games centre and a few rare glimpses when on their way to the said place. And in this beautiful place, the kids were running madly, most of them racing to the cornucopia, and in spite of telling himself that it was a _terrible_ idea to do the same, he found his legs carrying him towards the circular pedestal at the most rapid pace that they could attain, and he felt his body dive at the platform, his long fingers holding a single bag and pulling it roughly. Its straps were, however, entangled with the other bags that were resting there peacefully, and with a mighty heave, he pulled off three bags, dropping them on the soft grass with a heavy _thud_. He tried to pull out whichever bag he could out of the three, for he had only a few seconds at best, and none at worst, and even as he managed to disentangle a small bag in the shade of neon pink, he found that most people had reached the cornucopia.

Dekker knew he was in trouble, and he instinctively reached out for any weapon he could find on the platform, but it was yanked away from his reach in the last second, and his hand met nothing but the burning metal. He yelped at it, and started pushing people away, shoving them, ducking from their move, just trying to save himself. He saw Kespar in the distance, and the sneaky boy already had a bag, a bi one too, and Dekker rolled his eyes at it. The snake.

He hadn't made it very long when a loud, shrill cry raised the hair on the back of his neck. Despite himself, he turned around to see Margaery had impaled Calista with a spear, and he felt himself go sick as the blood seeped out of the wound. It was even worse when the Career pulled out the spear from her back, the cry so loud and so wretched that almost all the tributes whatever they were doing and watched it as it happened, with Calista Birchwood falling forward on the grass, a cannon exploding in the wind.

Probably this was what everyone had been waiting for. And Dekker, who _now_ wanted his legs to take lead and run, was enraged that they refused to obey him, for he saw everything clearly as it happened.

Jupiter had cornered Avni, even as the girl tried to get away anyhow. He approached her like a predator relishing the hunt, and she kind of just stood there, bewildered and petrified, when another Career jumped in between like a shield, and now it was Jupiter and Josephine going at each other even as the female told her allies to gather supplies.

Dekker watched in horror as he watched Napoleon attack Kespar, his body so agile that his ally did not really have much time to do anything, and the next moment he was gone, a clean, clinical slash across his throat even as another cannon rang out. At the same time, Nereus sent a flying arrow at Rook, but due to some cruel fate, the arrow pierced little Ark Zagog's heart.

It was these events that terrified Dekker, terrified him enough to _move_, and he started for the gate of the park as quickly as he could, oblivious to the events occurring around him. He saw Aron and Akira run past the gate, the boy holding a single pouch of sorts and the girl with a water bottle, and they were probably the first tributes to make it out. Dekker followed them as quickly as his legs could carry him, but there was an obstacle, a very big obstacle in the form of Cruxia Marshall, who just magically appeared in front of him, and Dekker came to an abrupt halt, staggering back even as she took position to attack.

In the blink of the eye, Cruxia pounced on the boy. Some long lost animalistic instinct kicked in within him, and Dekker jumped to the side, dodging the attack with an unintentional grace that would have certainly appealed to the viewers. Cruxia, however, was not to be underestimated, and she swerved around in no time, a powerful kick slamming against Dekker's jaw. It was so hard that he felt it break even as he tripped and fell down in agony. Cruxia kicked hard on his chest, the boot crashing down with some force that he had not expected from her, and his breath exploded, sending him into a coughing fit. He tried to roll out of the way regardless as another kick came his way, the foot hitting the ground hard, and he stood up shakily, trying to run but Cruxia pounced on him again, landing on him and taking him down on the ground, and Dekker screamed as her hands wrapped around his neck.

His struggles, his screams and his breath all stopped when she snapped his neck.

* * *

**Cat Doyle, 13**

**District Three Female**

* * *

She had warned her against it.

Cat Doyle had _not _been in the favour of going into the cornucopia for supplies. She knew they could survive if they just handled things better, but her ally thought otherwise. Tink just ran _blindly_, ran to the platform that was surrounded by the deadliest of Careers, and pulled a bag that was on the ground that somebody had dropped earlier.

"Come back!" Cat called out and clapped really, really hard, for she was terrified right now and just wanted to get away. What kind of person would not be terrified in such a situation? Tink, however, seemed to not have such a thought process, and Cat was mildly surprised and greatly relieved to see that she was back, with supplies too, having a triumphant grin on her face.

"Let's leave quickly," Jet said wisely, startling Cat, for she had honestly forgotten that he had been with her too. He had just been so quiet, so _invisible_, that nobody could really blame Cat for it. She nodded at his words, all too eager to get away, and the three of them started off. Cat glanced around, only to see tall walls standing at the perimeter, blocking their way, and there was only one exit… and her throat went dry on seeing what was happening there.

The Careers had blocked the exit, not in totality, but to a great extent, and there, sprawled across the grass, were three bodies, the red of their beings staining the green. Cat felt her blood turn cold and she was sniffing hard now, shaking her head almost violently, clapping hard too. Cat saw, with a guilty relief, when the other big alliance attacked the Careers, engaging them in battle. Only Josephine was skilled enough to match them in entirety, but she saw that the others were holding their own too. She saw Cairn getting injured, but not too badly, and she saw her own District Partner being bodily lifted and slammed down hard, but Rook seemed to be working on pure adrenaline, for he narrowly avoided the next blow, a fatal blow, with a panicky ease.

"I think we should get away," Tink said, and while Cat could see that she was trying hard to appear strong, the paleness of her skin and the wide eyes gave away the intense terror.

"You're right."

"Should we really move past _them?_" Cat asked, pointing towards the fighting groups. She noticed that the Anti Careers was also just trying to escape, but the predators had something big against them, and thus they were deliberate in their action of charging at them.

What Cat saw next made her scream in terror.

It was Cupid, the lovely girl from Eight, who was trying to make it away through the gate, when suddenly Jupiter slipped away from his own battle and pounced on her. He was strong and brutal, and Cat knew he was capable of finishing it in one go.

But he did not.

Grabbing her head forcefully, he slammed it against the gate, again and again and _again_, and none of her pleas reached his purposefully deaf ears. Blood trickled down her smashed head, but he continued beating her up mercilessly, as if trying to get out all his frustration on the poor girl. Cat vomited at the sight, for it was too much for her, and yet she could not peel her eyes away from the repulsive scene as the other girl's face was pretty much mutilated.

"Well, we certainly can't go through that way…" was all Jet remarked.

The fighting tributes had all stopped now, watching in horror at what was happening.

"Jupiter, stop!" Napoleon cried out, but the boy from One ignored him.

Cat couldn't turn her gaze away from the limp body of Estefania Sanchez, but there had been no cannon. She also noticed Rook quietly beckoning to his allies, and even as Avni opened her mouth to intervene in what Jupiter was doing, he slammed his hand against her mouth and pulled her away hard. The Anti Careers had taken advantage of the situation, some reluctant and some conniving, and had gotten away.

Cat needed to do the same.

The gate was out of question, as the Careers had still not managed to calm down Jupiter's rampage, and Cat felt ashamed of herself for ignoring Cupid this way. She felt a tug at her elbow, and was startled by it, only to see Tink pointing at a tree near the wall.

"Can you guys climb it?" she asked.

"Yes."

"No."

Cat felt useless right now, probably for the first time in her life, and she was so anxious that she started clapping really hard now. She felt sick and weak after throwing up, and even if she didn't, she had no idea how to climb a tree so high. And even if they did do just that, wouldn't they break their legs if they jump off the wall to the other side?

"Jet," Tink said urgently, and despite the situation Cat was impressed by her leadership qualities, albeit a little impulsive, "Go and climb that tree and wait there. Cat, come with me."

The kids parted ways, with Jet running off towards that tall tree that was apparently their only hope, and Tink and Cat raced to the circular pedestal.

"What exactly are we looking for?"

"Ropes. At least two."

Cat was panting by the time she reached there, and felt like throwing up again as bile rose in her throat. Tink didn't look any better, and she didn't notice the rope for a few seconds despite it being right in front of her, frantically searching the heap of supplies instead. Cat brought her attention to this, and the girls had soon acquired the thick ropes they needed. They had started running towards the tree, Jet already up on it, when they heard the cannon explode.

Swallowing a lump, Cat and Tink both looked back, terrified, a cold shiver running through their hearts, only to see that Jupiter was still stabbing the poor girl, _crying _and stabbing, even as the other Careers asked him to stop, though none of them tried to stop him physically. Basileus glanced towards the girls once, his face unreadable, and a chill went down Cat's spine. However, his action was unexpected, for he beckoned at the ever so slightly, to get away _fast. _

Cat did not need another reminder.

"Jet!" Tink called out once they reached the tree, "Tie this rope tightly around the branch. Quick!"

And with that, she threw one of the ropes at him… that missed his grip and just fell down on the ground.

Tink yelled in frustration as she picked it up and tried to give it to Jet again, but he missed it. Cat bit her lips nervously, and she said," Tink, you can climb, right? Just go."

Tink's eyes seemed to gleam at those words, something that was unexpected, and she exclaimed, "Yep! I can climb alright. Just wait here!"

And it was almost like watching a monkey climb it up, for she was so agile at it, as if she had a lot of experience climbing trees. Cat kept looking back at the Careers, and saw, both with fear and sadness, when Napoleon finally stepped in and snatched Jupiter's weapon from his hand, pushing him hard.

"She's already dead! What're you doing?!"

"Cat!"

The girl from Three had forgotten all about the tree and the rope, but it was dangling beside her now. She looked up at Tink who yelled at her to start climbing it for they were running short of precious time, and Jet too joined in encouraging her to start, something unusual for him. Cat did not have the courage to look back and she was soon climbing it. But she was no Tink, and she was struggling with the rope even as she panicked, her progress steady but slow. She felt a force at the rope, and on looking up she saw that Tink and Jet were pulling the rope with all they had, the rope grazing their palms to the point that they bled, and Cat was soon with them on the tree.

Jet got onto the wall, a thick path for him to walk on, but he could fall off none the less.

"What now?" he asked, his concentration on balancing his body on the wall.

"Those beams," Tink pointed out. Cat followed her finger to see that there were, indeed, horizontal poles jutting out of the wall. However, she was not very certain about its strength. Could it really hold their load? Also, how were they to get there?

The last question was answered pretty soon, for Tink ordered her to get on the wall. Cat blinked, for she couldn't have heard that right, but her ally had soon joined her other ally and Cat, without even knowing it for her body now seemed to be moving in a trance, was beside them.

She reached out for Tink's hand, for she was had never done anything like this before, and the other girl held it tightly.

"You can lie down again the wall and crawl forward," she advised and did the same, Cat following her.

Jet was already quite ahead, the other rope held between his teeth. Cat couldn't understand how he moved so fast, she herself suspected that she'd fall off any second now.

She made one mistake that she shouldn't have, she looked back at the park, and saw with terror that the Careers were coming at _them. _

"Quick!" Tink cried out even as Jet reached one of the beans and started tying the rope around it, still calm in the face of adversity. Cat saw that Jupiter and Nereus had pointed arrows at them, they must have grabbed them at the cornucopia.

"Let the kids go!" Basileus exclaimed.

"Yeah, we're not killing them until it's the only choice left," Cruxia added sternly.

"We've already killed a kid. Three more won't make a difference," Nereus said blankly, his eyes holding nothing but rage as he took aim at Tink whereas Jupiter aimed at Cat.

"That had been accidental!" Margaery retorted, "Let them go! There are a lot of other tributes to hunt!"

At the mention of other tributes, Cat saw Dakota and Kai go through the gate. The boy stopped for a moment to look at the mutilated corpse of Cupid, and she thought she was mistaken, for she could hear a single sob from him, even as they ran away.

But here, her life was on the line. Jupiter had been swayed, he looked more lost and guilty and ashamed than angry, and he lowered his bow, but Nereus, who she'd assumed to be a better Career, let the arrow fly, and Tink quickly rolled away, dangling from the ledge on the other side. Cat did not know whether her grip was good enough to hold on even as she herself struggled to stay on the wall, but she reached out with one hand to hold Tink's wrist as the younger girl just hanged on somehow.

Nereus nocked another arrow, and Cat knew this one would kill her for sure. She shut her eyes, bracing herself for the impact, when she heard something hit something else, and she opened her eyes to see that the how had been knocked out of Nereus' hands.

"We won't attack them," Cruxia stated firmly.

"And why is that?"

"Because _I _said so."

And there was such strength in her voice, such vigour and such rigidity, that none of the Careers said another word, and Nereus simply turned away angrily.

Cat couldn't believe their luck. The Careers were literally allowing them to go unscathed! She hastily Tink back on, and they hurried towards the beam. Tink caught on the rope and climbed down rapidly, and Cat followed suit even as Jet and Tink watched.

She couldn't believe when her feet touched solid ground, a posh pavement, and that she had survived this nightmare. Cat felt weak right now, a little dizzy even, but she ran along the road automatically, panting and heaving, heart beating faster than it ever had, and she did not know how long they'd been running until another cannon rang out.

Cat was sad for whoever had left this world and she shed tears as she ran. They kept running and running and running blindly, until their bodies collapsed due to exhaustion and they fell right down on the road. The three of them dragged themselves to a building, a tall glass skyscraper, and Cat knew she should take stock of the surroundings, but all the three of them just fell down on the polished floor, no energy left in them, and Cat didn't even realise that she had passed out.

* * *

**Margaery Goldman, 18**

**District One Female**

* * *

Marge had been unable to see the torture that she had just witnesses.

Despite years of training, despite knowing what she was here for, she couldn't help but feel sick as Jupiter tortured Estefania. And in spite of everything, she couldn't bring herself to stop him from committing this heinous crime, for she had seen the look in his eye, the look of destruction, and she was aware that poor Cupid had only fallen prey to the storm of fury that Jupiter was. It wasn't until she had died, and Jupiter had continued his assault regardless, that she realised that it probably hadn't even crossed his mind that he had killed someone, or that he was attacking someone, and Marge was just sorry for both of them, for Cupid because she went out so painfully, and for Jupiter because something had caused so much trauma and hatred and bitterness in him.

It wasn't until Nate had pushed him hard did realisation come to him, and then Marge saw it as it happened. Jupiter had locked eyes at the corpse that he had created, and his eyes widened in horror even as she gaped aloud, and she saw them going bleak.

"Did- did I…?"

"Yes," Napoleon had whispered, a sad frown on his face even as Jupiter had just stared at the corpse, swaying a bit just once.

That had been a while ago. Now, Marge had just been observing Cruxia as she stepped forward as the strong voice among them, the one girl who had been quiet all this time, but now her voice rang out loud and clear, and even as Nereus turned around in anger and the kids continued going the way they were, but she saw that Nate and Basileus were just looking at Cruxia, who had crossed her arms across her chest, daring them to say a word.

Marge didn't, and simply looked away, moreso to see if there was anyone left that they could finish off, preferably not as horribly as Cupid. Her eyes scanned the park, the soft breeze making her hair sway and cooling off her sweat. At first glance, there seemed to be absolutely nothing, and that they were alone. However, she could hear it, a very faint sound that was almost inaudible, but it was there, and while the others were focussed on something else that she couldn't quite place, Marge started moving towards the slides slowly and soundlessly, holding a spear tightly, and as she neared the spot, the sound grew more and more audible, and she could tell what it was. It was someone's _breath._

Marge had truly outdone herself this time, for who could have heard _breathing_ from so far away, but here she was, and she could see the hair, the long hair, and she crouched down silently to see that Belladonna was cowering behind the slides, face buried between her knees, and breathing hard. Marge felt terribly sorry at the state of the girl, and for the events that were about to occur. She decided she should kill the girl by herself, for Basileus would _surely_ not go easy on her, and as she prepared to impale her, her attack was blocked.

Belladonna started and upon seeing them, she screamed and scrambled to her feet, trying to run away, but Basil grabbed her leg and pulled her back, slamming her on the ground.

"Finish her off quick!" Margaery said, her voice much more serious than it had ever been, but Basil seemed to have not heard her, or that he ignored her words altogether in his own favour. He grabbed Bell's arms and pinned them down, practically sitting on top of her, his body weight keeping her in place even as she struggled against his grip. Marge reached out for her spear to finish the story, for she knew what Basileus was capable of, but then he spoke, "There's no need for that."

And Bell's eyes widened just as Marge became even more nauseous. And yet, what happened was not something that she had expected, and she cried out in surprise, for Belladonna did not even have time to blink before Basileus snapped her neck, killing her immediately.

And Marge… she just watched as the boy from Eleven got off the corpse, his face that of a sad man who did something bad only because he had to. Marge had never expected _Basileus_ of all people to give _Belladonna_ the most painless death in this bloodbath, and it was now she saw another facet of him. Despite whatever he showed, he wasn't as bad as everyone, including herself, thought him to be.

"I think we should rest up a bit," he said, behaving like business as usual, "It's been a long day."

"I agree," Marge said, and the two of them started back towards the group. The bloodbath wasn't big, but it had been something, and Marge was glad that she had survived it.

Now, she just had to be careful and make it to the end.

* * *

**Hello everyone! So, I guess this chapter is a surprise because I'd said it'll come after one more, but I thought that exploring the Five's reaction **_**after**_** the bloodbath would be better because all this is so new for them. So, here we are, and here the Games start. This is the longest bloodbath I've written, and I'm sad to have to kill off all these characters because I loved them so much, but it had to happen. There were deaths that were going to be much more graphic, very detailed too, but I decided against the idea because I did not want to make anyone uncomfortable. Also POVs are of uneven lengths, but that happened mostly because of the flow of the chapter, so I hope it isn't too bad.**

**Eulogies:**

**24th- Calista Birchwood (killed by Margaery goldman): Calista was a nice and sweet girl, and was overall a nice character among so many hot-headed kids. She was calm and collected, but I did not know how I could continue with her. Rest in peace Cali, you'll be missed.**

**23rd- Kespar Lynx (killed by Napoleon Walter): I'm sure this was surprising. Kespar was a good character, and had things that made him interesting. He had traits that were fun to write, and it's sad that it was his time to go. He'll be remembered. Rest in peace.**

**22nd- Ark Zagog (killed by Nereus Naga): This was hard to write, because Ark was just such a realistic little kid, and a really good character. He was fun to write, but I think most of you already had predicted that he'd go. Rest in peace kiddo.**

**21st- Dekker Mattson (killed by Cruxia Marshall): Dekker was the most realistic person of the group, hands down. I guess we could all see ourselves in him, because he was such a well created character. It was just his bad luck that he had to go. Rest in peace.**

**20th- Estefania Sanchez (killed by Jupiter Aeneas): Okay, Cupid did not deserve this. I'm really sorry for the way she went, I know it was brutal. I loved, LOVED Cupid so much and she was such a fun girl, such a vibrant girl. You will be missed Cupid, rest in peace.**

**19th- Belladonna Betony (killed by Basileus Paladino): I loved Bell so much as well, she was certainly one of my favourite characters, but I just could not see her go further. Basil and Bell were destined to fight, and I couldn't really explain off Basil at Bell's hands when he had a whole group with him and she had kind of lost all hope. You'll be missed so much Bell, rest in peace.**

**I hope you guys liked the chapter. I would love to hear your thoughts on this, and I hope you guys review. Thanks for reading, see you next chapter.**

**Alliances:**

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**This Was Bound To Happen: Kai, Dakota**

**This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet**

**Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook**

**Have a great day!**


	23. Chapter 23

The events that he had just witnessed were, in simple terms, barbaric.

Now, Giovanni was not a man of mindless emotions. He was stoic and firm, and even he was shaken after what he had seen play out on the screen, children murdering children in ways so brutal that even _his _blood had chilled. He had never been so violent despite committing various murders and other hideous acts that were not to be named, but that had been to establish order, to command and to rule.

This was simply pathetic.

Giovanni wondered whether he should simply call it off. The Games were beyond horrific and were certainly expensive to manage, and he wasn't really a fan of seeing children die, at least on TV, and these were, in his opinion, quite compelling arguments… yet not compelling enough to actually do it.

This method had its cons but it had kept this poor and wasted nation grounded for decades. It was the only way they knew, the only way they would obey, and obedience was all Giovanni ultimately cared for. Once he'd find his little sister, he'll take his siblings and troops and leave this hellhole and return to the beautiful nation of Europia, the nation that _he_ had founded after brutal conquests. Giovanni did not really say that to the king, His Majesty, for father was ever loving and deserved to be respected… and he did not really have a long time left anyway. It would be much better that Giovanni became the king after being crowned as such, for nobody would question his rightly deserved authority then.

These thoughts, however, were not for the present. The present had to be dedicated to find his sister, the little angel, bundle of joy that he had held in his arms years ago…

"Gio-"

"Number One."

Louis sighed in exasperation, and in all honesty, Giovanni hadn't really noticed that all his siblings were with him, looking silently at the screen, all of them appalled. Louis appeared to be calmer than the others, his posture straight and eyes looking into Gio's, a sad smile on his face.

"Right, _Number One._ I think we should, you know, end this."

Gio turned to Louis, his face pensive, even as he glanced at the screen one more time. He had noticed a literal bloodbath, and while death did not scare or even bother him, children behaving in such violent fashion did. Hence, he did consider Louis' words with great deliberation as it also aligned with his own thoughts. He turned to the other three and raised his brows, asking them for their opinion although he was sure they would agree with him and Louis.

"I mean, we can scrap it. It's a really uncultured thing to do," Dianna shrugged, although Gio could see the uneasiness in her eyes, and it was understandable too, considering that she was the one handling the Games.

"And Europia is all about culture," Harry added, "The Games are barbaric."

Giovanni nodded thoughtfully, his eyes piercing into the blood red carpet, it reflecting his own turmoil. The Games really weren't necessary at all when he thought about it, he could just enforce curfew and appoint military everywhere. He had never ordered attack on children in any of his conquests before… why should he do so in Panem? Why did he let this happen in the first place?

"Number One."

Everyone turned to look at Joffery, the mere child among the Five, somebody Gio could never take seriously. And yet here he was, addressing him in his code name, something that none of the siblings ever did. This did take them all by surprise, for the look in Joffery's eyes was intense and blazing, like nothing Gio had seen in him before.

"Yes, Number Four?"

"I understand why we feel so opposed to the idea of the Games," the youngest of them started, "It's barbaric, it's uncultured, and it's not who we are. They should not exist even for a second longer.

"However, I'd like to bring to your notice, to everyone's notice, that currently, _we_ are Panem's enemies. We are here for a mission, and I don't think we should relax anything until we have accomplished it."

"You suggest not cancelling the Games."

"Yes, Number One. We started it because we knew that this is one way to control Panemians, one effective way too. When we had decided that we will continue with the Games, we were well aware of what it meant. It was an informed decision to suppress the public here, to crush them and to bring them to obedience. Calling off the games now, after the bloodbath, would send a wrong message to the masses. They will think that the Five are _scared_, that the Five are _soft_ and that the Five can be _beaten._ And as you know, we can't let that happen, for that is what will lead to our downfall."

An awkward silence followed his words, for Joffery was not known for making sense, and it did create a certain degree of discomfort even if Giovanni did not overtly acknowledge it. However, he was certainly seeing his youngest brother in a new light, for he had always been a party-guy, carefree and wild, basically a child. And here he was, talking sense, and Gio was glad that he did. He was right; they had made an informed decision. They had had done it to keep things in control. After so much had been done, they couldn't really just back down, not now. The search was still on and while there had been no solid evidence that their sister was in Panem, Gio's heart sensed it.

Love was strong and love was mighty, its strength could break through walls and spread across borders. It was this love for his little sister that told Gio that she was there, in Panem, and possibly even close to him, and when his heart was giving him such signals, why should he let his mind ignore them? Control and order in the state was of utmost importance, and once she was found, they would leave. For now, the show had to go on.

Louis suddenly got up and excused himself, leaving the room, probably to speak to someone back home. Giovanni was not concerned where he went; Louis was an intelligent man and could look out for himself. But right now, even as the other siblings looked at him closely, Gio straightened himself in his chair and cleared his throat before speaking.

"Joffery is right," he said slowly, "We need to prioritise our own goals right now."

Harry and Dianna didn't really say anything on it even as they exchanged uneasy looks. Giovanni knew it was hard for them both for they were the softer people in the group, with a clearer conscience than him, but he could do nothing about it. he loved his family, and he was there to complete it. Nothing else in the universe mattered.

The door suddenly burst open, and Gio jumped to his feet when he saw Louis' face, for it was red and he was panting and looked as if he would explode with emotions… _happy_ emotions. This puzzled Giovanni, for even he acknowledged that none of the Five were truly happy at the moment.

"There's news!" he exclaimed.

"Tell us!" Dianna and Joffery demanded, their voiced high, for they'd not seen their brother so excited in years, and they were perplexed by this behaviour.

"She's here! SHE'S HERE!"

* * *

**Hello all! This is a short little chapter catching up with the Five, and I liked writing it as it is a setup for future chapters and story. And, goodness, do you think they've really found their sister?! What do you think will happen now? I will write both the plots, that of the Five and the Games simultaneously, because I think it will work better with this story and setting. See you next chapter with the first day!**

**Have a great day!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Day One**

* * *

**Cairn Rochester, 16**

**District Twelve Male**

* * *

His legs felt like lead, heavy and slow, but they were still lighter than his heart.

His heart was _pounding_, pounding against his sweaty chest, his rough breathing escaping through his arid throat as he ran, ran and _ran_, with no sense of where he was running, of where he was going or of where he wanted to reach. Cupid's bloodied form swam in front of his eyes and no matter how much he tried, or how often he glanced at the sun to make himself uncomfortable just to have a distraction, he couldn't get rid of it. His arms were like rock, refusing to move at all, and his muscles were _screaming_ at him to stop, stop, STOP!

Needless to say, he did not stop.

He did not know how far away they had come, or whether they had covered any distance at all. Large buildings loomed everywhere, their shining neon names, eccentric colours that blinded his senses, and the perfectly angled roads that disgusted him beyond anything else… other than the Games, of course. He was glad when they finally stopped, and fell down dramatically on the pavement, his head slightly dizzy now. however, the reason of their halt was not that Josephine felt that this was a good distance, it was that Avni was throwing up in bin now, and the Career was rubbing her back gently even as Rook held her. Cairn himself felt like doing it, but he just felt nauseous at the time, and he was glad to have any kind of rest for his aching legs that he could have. He simply lied down on the footpath, his arms folded under his head like a pillow, and he forced himself to inhale deeply. Beside him, Lyanna threw herself on the ground too, panting hard.

"How far… do you think… we are?"

"No idea… damn it… _hurts._"

"I hope we're… safe… for today."

"Let's first… catch our breath… talking is… hard."

And it honestly was. Cairn didn't know why his breaths were so difficult to take. Maybe he was just exhausted of everything, he didn't know, or maybe they really had run for a long time, making him so utterly breathless. He shut his eyes, trying to relax his aching body, but all he saw were Careers advancing, advancing like hounds thirsty for blood, pouncing on him and…

His eyes flew open.

Thankfully, he was met with the view of the sky, the bluest sky there could be, small white clouds floating serenely against it, and he almost felt at peace even as his panting reduced from earlier. Beside him, Lyanna had stopped it completely.

"What the *** was _that_?!" Avni screamed, having regained herself now, slumped against the wall of a posh glass building, her eyes full of disgust.

"The Hunger Games," Rook replied nonchalantly, sitting down beside her, massaging his brows with his thumb.

"Was there any need to be so- so- so- _bloodthirsty_?!"

"Jupiter did cross the limits of even the Careers," Josephine agreed, "Most of us train for the Games for the honour. There's no honour in torture."

Avni looked up at Josephine as if she was insane, her mouth agape, and Cairn was surprised at the reaction. Did she not know about the Games? Her reaction was the same that his had been when he had discovered that Careers trained to kill, from a young age at that, and that was why they won more frequently. Avni's behaviour seemed odd to him, and she didn't even try to hide her disbelief… and disgust.

"Most people see us as villains," Josephine said, sitting down in front of the other girl, smiling kindly, "But honestly, we're just better prepared. Since the Games had been something that were there and had to happen, volunteering saved everyone who did not want to compete, who were more confident about their deaths than their victories. Thus, it became a thing of honour over time.

"What Jupiter did, however, was not honourable. We fight for our District's pride… and one can even say to play the hero for our homes, but torture doesn't really lead to either of them."

"Well, now that I think of it… it does make sense," Avni replied thoughtfully, "So you guys have trained fighters going in and that is a better method to save lives, given the scenario."

"Yes."

Cairn sat up now and slowly got to his feet, they still aching and feeling sort of numb at the same time, and ambled up to his three allies even as Lyanna stayed behind, resting herself. Cairn sat down beside Jospehine, but his eyes were fixed at Avni, who looked just as sick as she had been earlier.

"Avni… _why_ did _you_ volunteer?"

The girl looked up at him, surprised, as if she had not expected being asked such a question.

"Why, I was asked to volunteer and die or be tortured for _ages_ till I died."

"What the ***?!" Lyanna exclaimed, she too finally joining them on hearing her words. Cairn was shocked too, but not only because it happened to her but also because of her tone of indifference to her own ordeal, a tone he couldn't have had mustered had he been forced to choose.

"Why did this happen?"

"I'm not originally from Panem. Apparently, the Five didn't want foreigners here, so District Ten mayor started executing everyone, including my whole family, and told me to volunteer."

Her story was surprising, sending a shiver down Cairn's spine, and yet what stood out to him was how indifferent she sounded. She had appeared to be sweeter, more tensed earlier but now… there was just a melancholic look in her eyes and nothing else.

"You looked afraid earlier. I mean, don't take it the wrong way, you took plenty of stands but…"

"That's because I was scared," Avni replied, her voice barely concealing her fury, "I was taken aback and I was frightened and I wondered what they would do to me. Now that I've seen Cupid die? I don't think hiding all this about myself is going to work. Even if the Five don't touch me, the Careers will finish me off. Events might change but my fate remains *** same."

And Cairn, the ever-shy Cairn, extended a hand gingerly to her and patted her gently on the shoulder. He felt that it was pretty awkward for Avni as well, and that maybe he should pull his hand back, but she smiled at him instead and reached for his hand with her own, her touch soft on his skin. Cairn blushed slightly, because he was feeling shy and awkward and good all at once, and the others simply chuckled lightly, their sounds slightly awkward too, but not ill-intentioned.

"Very well," Rook said, smiling lightly at the group, "Now that we have rested up, I think we should try to become more aware of the arena… and find a place to camp at."

"Well, let's take a look around."

* * *

**Kai Jung, 18**

**District Nine Male**

* * *

Kai was in a state of mind that he had never been in before.

This was the first time he had wanted to know someone, wanted to understand them and be _good _to them for reasons he couldn't explain to even himself… And that someone was simply gone.

Kai was also, to his own surprise, not dealing with death as calmly as he had thought he would. He was disgusted and, _goodness, _terrified. Of course, what with his reputation of being the most sought after eligible bachelor and heartthrob back home, he had to look strong. Well, he was strong, undoubtedly, but nobody, _nobody _should feel otherwise.

So he just sat down on a pink bench that he'd seen on the pavement, under a nice shed that had fairies painted on it, and he was met with strong cool winds from above. He was thankful for it, for he was sweating and panting hard, and there was absolutely nothing better than cool wind, almost as if conditioned, right now.

Dakota too sat down beside him, sweeping her hair to the front and pulling the collar of her shirt back, exposing her neck to the cool air. Kai honestly thought she looked very pretty right now. And then he chided himself, for what were these thoughts in a time of crisis? He could get whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He needn't worry about those worldly affairs in the arena.

"We don't have many supplies between the two of us. Just a packet of wafers and a rope and a water bottle."

_"We?" _

Kai was honestly baffled. Yes, they had escaped together. Yes, they had grabbed one bag between the two of them. But an alliance? That was simply outrageous. She had not even consulted with him, not bothered to ask him for his invaluable input, and that was _rude. _How could she suggest an alliance without asking him first?! Such humiliation!

"Yeah, we escaped together."

"That doesn't mean we're allies!"

Dakota frowned at that, her soft eyes looking quizzically at him, and Kai felt like smirking. Ha! Now she _had _to be regretting not asking him first! Well, well, that would be a scene. And since he was such a sweetheart, the charmer, the noblest man in all of Panem, he would forgive her and tell her it was alright with a dramatic wave of his hand and chuckle lightly like the elite man he was.

What came next, however, was not what he had expected.

"So you don't want to ally?"

And, like the oblivious and free spirited girl she was, Dakota simply loaded the bag on her back and stood up to leave, waving dramatically at _him_. Well, things had certainly backfired.

"Well, I never said I don't want to ally!"

"Then what's the issue? Why are you bringing up a non existent one?"

Wait… What? This wasn't supposed to happen! How could she talk to him this way? He was bringing up a non existent issue? _He? _How could he bring up anything insignificant? Every word he uttered was of utmost significance to this world, whether it be a "Hey!" or a "Ooh!" They were all important, more important than the utter filth that the proletariat, or worse, the _kids _spewed out! Looking at Dakota, he scrunched his nose, for _surely _she must be empathising with folks like those! That's why she couldn't appreciate the gem that he was!

"Well Kai, since I was the one to grab the bag, I'm taking it with me. Take care."

"Wait!"

Without thinking of anything, not his reputation and not the audience who would be drooling over him, he grabbed Dakota's wrist gently, stopping her from leaving. In his mind, he could see that it had turned into a very filmy scene, and a cringey one too at that, but he did not care.

"Dakota…" he started as she turned to face him, her expressions depicting her own confusion. He was right, she was just painfully oblivious.

"Of course we can ally, haha! I was messing around with you!"

And with that, he slapped her on the shoulder, chuckling.

The younger girl just continued to look at him, now more so with amusement than anything else, and she slowly followed him back to the bench, for which Kai was grateful because he felt _hot_.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

Kai glanced at her, taking stock of her behaviour properly for the first time. She looked tensed and edgy, nothing like the girl who had told him he was handsome as a skeleton as well. There was a gloom to her that he couldn't quite place. Whatever it was though, he didn't like it.

"Ah, it's alright. I've a big enough heart to forgive that particular incident."

And then he chuckled, waving his hand dramatically, just as he had wanted to earlier. To his surprise, even Dakota giggled at that and she smiled, a smile he had not seen in a long while. Kai was not someone who would smile back at others, but right now, he returned it confidently, for she must obviously be smiling like this because she enjoyed his supremely pleasant company.

"Why, thank you for such kindness, sir!"

And then she laughed again, laughed in a carefree way, as if unafraid of being judged, unafraid of showing the world who she was… Kai's smile faltered at that, for it was painful to think about his own childhood, his own 'friends', the horrible paupers who used him for his wealth and never cared for him…

Kai swallowed a lump at that. It was so long ago, and yet he clearly remembered all of it as it had happened, the backstabs, the betrayals, the gossips. Kai had seen the reality of the poor at that time, the reality that children, by their natural instinct, were just horrible pieces of creation and yes, these two groups deserved to be despised and excluded, for they consisted of nothing but opportunists. They were nothing like the urban Cupid- beautiful and kind. Nor were they like the rich but rural Dakota, graceful and liberated.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, tender like the softest of silks, gentle like the loveliest of fairies. He was awoken from his trip down the lane of insignificant musings, and he grinned at Dakota like the charmer he was, who laughed out again.

"I'm honestly feeling terrible after the Bloodbath. There was so much death and blood and- and pain and terror!"

Kai bit his lip at that, for this was something he could relate to. He felt horrible after witnessing all that carnage, and he couldn't get the image of it out of his head now that the topic had been raised. He forced himself to push it away though, and faced Dakota.

"Things are pretty bad," he replied wisely, "But there can be two victors. Together, we can make it out of this hell hole."

"I sure hope so Kai, I do."

* * *

**Akira Tuktuk, 16**

**District Six Female**

* * *

_I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive! _

_Where's this road leading to? Are we going down the right path? Does he really know what he's doing? _

Akira was glad that she had not been slaughtered yet, that was how she put it to herself, and that she had managed to get supplies. Well, technically it had been Aron who'd gotten them, those tiny blue bags, but she was the one who'd figured out how to get out so maybe that squared off the whole thing.

"These buildings are so beautiful!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly, earning a sideways look from Aron, who later just rolled his eyes. She noticed that he was tense, his body seemed to be in attack-mode, eyes darting everywhere as he tried to keep his sound to the minimum. Well, he needn't be. They were far away from the cornucopia now, at least that's what she judged from her severely aching legs, and since the Five were new to the whole thing, they might not even have designed mutts!

Okay, maybe _that_ had gone too far. They must have had done their homework well, and she chided herself for thinking otherwise, even for a second. She was going to be the death of them, she thought wisely, but the thought was so terrifying that she hastily tried to push it away altogether. She shuddered visibly, startling Aron, and she got startled at his sudden motion. It was funny, and that made her laugh aloud, and Aron hastily clasped her mouth with his hand, shushing her urgently.

"_What's_ wrong with you?!" he whispered in exasperation.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing."

He grabbed her wrist and started pulling her quickly down the street, and her legs were protesting hard. She needed to rest, her calves and shins hurt and she was running out of breath. Aron, on the other hand, was unaffected, and pulling her along fast, faster than her body could carry her. She pulled back her arm, making him halt as well, staggering a few steps back, and he turned to her in annoyance.

"You're too fast!"

"Well, you need to keep up."

"I can't!"

"So you stay here. I'm leaving."

"What?! You can't!"

Akira was shocked. Just the previous night, he had talked to her so sweetly, supported her and wanted to work with her towards their victory. And now he was suggesting that he would leave her?! How dare he!

"I _can_, Akira."

"Why?!"

"Because you're annoying me, Akira. You need to keep up, otherwise you will just be a liability to me and, sorry to say this, but I'm not getting killed because of you."

Akira blinked twice as Aron looked right into her eyes, a frown on his face, a look of irritation on his face, and she lowered her head slightly.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "You go ahead."

Aron stared at her for a few more seconds, brows high, the look of annoyance intensifying even further. It was almost as if he was telling her to cut the drama, perhaps that's what he had wanted to tell her she thought, but this was no drama. Akira _never_ did any drama, ever, and she was visibly hurt by the mere thought that he thought of her this way.

"Fine we'll go slow! Come along now."

"I'm not coming," she reiterated, and crossed her arms across her chest, turning her face away from him in a swift motion. Aron's hands just turned around in the universal 'what on earth are you doing' sign, but she paid him no heed. She did not leave either, for he _must_ apologise for his wrong thoughts regarding her, that she was causing drama. Scandalous!

"You honestly want to do this right now?" he asked finally, mimicking her own posture, a deep frown on his face. Akira did not reply, she wanted an apology, and thus she turned away even further from him.

"Fine, as you wish. I can not really force you to come along anyway."

And with that, Aron turned on his heels and started walking away from her, slowly picking up speed. He also had the bag with him, from which he had just left a single bottle of water at her feet, before departing. Akira released her arms and looked at his retreating form, unable to believe that he was actually leaving her behind. He was walking fast, and had covered some distance already, and Akira yelped. Whatever happened, she did not really want him to leave her alone! How was she supposed to fend for herself? Why was nobody ever considerate towards her?!

Picking up the water bottle in a swift motion, she started running after him, yelling his name.

"Aron, wait for me!"

He either did not hear her or did not want to hear her, for he did not stop, and Akira, in fear of being left alone, ran faster than she had run earlier, and then leapt on him like a fenile on a prey, and she hit his back so hard that they both went crashing down onto the road.

"What the ***!" Aron exclaimed painfully.

"Oops, sorry."

And with that, Akira simply sat up on his back.

"Will you get off?!"

"Not until you promise to take me along."

"I'd already told you to come along! Now get off!"

"Say please!"

Akira had probably pushed him a little too far with that request, for he simply threw her off his back and stood up slowly, groaning. Akira fell on her backside and cried out in surprise.

"What is this Aron?! Is this the way to behave with a lady?!"

"You are no 'lady'."

"Oh come on pal, you take things too seriously."

And with that, she slapped his back hard, earning another pokefaced glare from him. She giggled again before he reprimanded her for being 'too loud' but even as she quietened down and they started walking down the road wordlessly, not even giving a closure to what had just happened, Akira saw the most beautiful thing she had seen in a long, long time.

It was a dazzling red sports car, a real beauty at that, beckoning to her lovingly, and Akira was almost drooling. She had always, always dreamed of having a fancy car, driving it and flaunting it, and she started running towards it almost as if she was bewitched. Aron's voice fell on her deaf ears, and she was there, running her finger on the smooth door, mouth slightly agape as she drank in the sight of it. And that was when she saw it, the thing that could make her dream come true, a _beautiful_ key.

"Aron let's go!"

"I don't think we should, Akira. Let's leave."

"Come _on_!"

"Akira… don't."

She ignored him now, for he was obviously a stupid boy having no knowledge or desire of beautiful things and dreams, but she was certainly going for a ride. She started walking around it and on reaching the other side, she cried out.

"Aron! There's a note here! It says that we can drive it to move around! It's not a mutt!"

"Yeah, right."

"Don't be a spoilsport! Come, get in!"

And with that, Akira got into the driver's seat, gesturing to Aron even as she started the car, the engine kicking into life.

"No Akira, let's not-"

Before Aron could complete his sentence, however, she had pulled him in forcefully, and with a hearty laugh, she placed her foot on the accelerator.

And there they went, driving down the road in a fancy red car.


	25. Chapter 25

**Night One**

* * *

**Cruxia Marshall, 18**

**District Four Female**

* * *

The tension was so strong that Cruxia wanted to just get up and leave.

There was Jupiter, who was staring into space unseeingly, a sad look on his face, and Cruxia was sure that, probably, he felt _remorse_ at what he had done in the morning. Cruxia had been astonished when she had seen him go like that at Cupid. Yes, he was crazy and short tempered, but she had still not expected such brutality from him, to the point of mutilating the poor girl. And now, he was just sitting there, looking angry and upset with himself at the same time.

And then there was Nereus, who was angry. He had not spoken a word ever since they had let the children go. He had been pacing the park, arms crossed across his chest, and generally ignoring the words of the other Careers. Cruxia had suggested a couple of times that they should probably go out and look for other tributes, and while the others were down for it, Nereus' mood had worsened and Jupiter had not shown any reaction, so they let it be, leaving the hunting for the next day. But now, they were all bored and tired, and their moods were not that great either. It was honestly not a scenario that Cruxia liked, for now nobody was talking due to the awkwardness of the whole thing, and she sat down on one of the swings, the night breeze gently cooling her skin. She wondered about going into one of the fancy buildings, probably a restaurant. What would it be like in them? Would they be filled by mutts or was there a chance of finding actual, nicely cooked food in there? She didn't know, and she knew it was an absurd idea to venture into what could be a lair of mutts, but it was an entertaining idea nonetheless.

But there she was, sitting on that swing, swaying gently. Nereus passed her a couple of times as he paced the whole area of the park, and she saw Napoleon was talking to Jupiter, probably trying to help him in any way he could. Margaery and Basileus were near the actual cornucopia, that raised platform, talking in hushed voices. Cruxia still couldn't believe Basileus gave such a painless death to Bell, as painless as he could have, she might not have even realised it. He had looked so annoyed, so cruel all this while…

When Nereus passed her the third time, she could see his cheeks glistening in the moonlight. It was not very clearly out there, and she had to strain her eyes to see it, but she was sure. So, she got off the swing gracefully, and walked up to him, reaching out for his shoulder gingerly. She hesitated for a second, but she was concerned, and so she touched his shoulder lightly.

Nereus stopped in his movement, but that was all the acknowledgement from his side, as he stood there stoically. Cruxia sighed as she moved closer, walking around him so that she was facing him. he refused to meet her eyes, staring at the soft grass, as if he did not want to look at her, or anyone.

"What happened Nereus?"

He did not answer immediately, staring at the grass intently, refusing to even acknowledge her question. She did notice, however, another tear trickle down his cheek and a shiver run down his body, as if he was utilising all his strength just to keep himself together. Cruxia moved closer now, and gently grabbed his shoulders. To her relief, he did not brush her off.

"Why are you crying? What happened to you back then?"

"Nothing."

"That's obviously a lie."

"Look, I don't want to talk about it. I-I-I don't know!"

Cruxia sighed to herself. She did have a fair idea about what exactly was wrong. Nereus had been…off, since last night. He just had not been his sweet self, almost as if he was possessed by all the negativity in the universe.

"Nereus… it's not your fault."

The boy remained quiet as she kept her hands steadily on his shoulders. She knew he wanted to talk, and it was taking all of Cruxia's self-control to not blow up either at what had happened. it was not her place to do anything about it, nor could she have done anything in all honesty, but the fact that it happened was taxing for herself. She felt powerless especially since she acknowledged that she could have done nothing at all for Nereus. However, it was not the right time to get lost in her own thought, she had to first address her distraught friend, who was quickly turning into something that he was not.

"It is totally my fault," Nereus whispered, still refusing to look at her, "She managed to do it because _I_ am dumb. She could do all this because I trusted her with everything I have. She has ruined everything because I was too stupid to figure things out, because I loved her blindly."

He was trembling now, trembling hard, as all the pent-up emotions started spilling out, his eyes pooling with tears of anger and sadness and helplessness even as he clenched his fists tightly.

"It is _my _fault my family is destroyed. My dad's dead, Sunil's in jail, Nerida is in jail and I'm here, here waiting to die… I got tricked into volunteering when I had no desire to do so. I-I gave in because I'm weak. I gave in because I was blinded by her love… the love for my family. I really thought I could prove Sunil's innocence if I won when I had no desire to be in the Games."

Cruxia was worried for Nereus. Yes, he was letting out all his feelings, speaking out all his thoughts and while she had thought that it would benefit him, she wasn't sure anymore. His voice was in the likeness of a robot- calm and soft… emotionless. She could feel the numbness of his heart even as she held him by the shoulders, the tears falling silently down his face.

"I deserve to die for my stupidity. She'll get what she has always wanted- to finish my whole family. she'll get the property and she will live happily while I rot in hell. But you know what, Cruxia? In spite of all this being my fault, I'm not okay with it. I'm not okay with dying here.

"I've been used all my life by the people whom I've loved the most, the people whom I've given my heart and my thoughts and for whom I'm always sacrificing my well-being. I'm done being the good guy. I'm one being the guy who supports everyone and who's sweet and selfless. I'm done playing the hero. _I'm done being dumb._"

He hiccupped after that, his nose running which he wiped on his sleeve. Cruxia's grip on his shoulders tightened and he took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, eyes shut now. There was a silence now, a silence that was both awkward yet peaceful, and Cruxia surprised even herself when she hugged Nereus abruptly. She had not done it consciously, and he too flinched at the contact, but ultimately made no effort to release himself.

"You're not dumb. It's not your fault Nerida turned out to be such a prick. It's not your fault you trusted your sister with your life. It's not your fault that you're kind and giving and that you're hurting right now. None of this is your fault."

Nereus did not reply to that, he did absolutely nothing at all, even as Cruxia hugged him even tighter than before. She did not know why she was doing this, but seeing her District Partner becoming so numb just… hurt. That's how she looked at it. she was hurt seeing his pain and helplessness, and she too felt helpless for not being able to help despite knowing that she could have done nothing to ease his agony. It did not lessen the pain though, nor the guilt and the rage.

To her surprise, Nereus placed a hand on her back, reciprocating the embrace in his own awkward way, but it made her smile broadly nonetheless.

"It'll be okay," she whispered softly.

"I don't know Cruxia… I don't know anymore…"

"We'll make it work. You and I, we're getting out as victors."

And she meant it. After all, when there could be two victors, why shouldn't she make an alliance within her existing alliance? Nereus was the closest here to being her friend. It was natural that she gravitated towards him before anyone else. She really hoped he felt the same way. if he did, they could actually make it work.

"Let's see, Cruxia. Let's see."

* * *

**Jet Leather, 13**

**District Ten Male**

* * *

When Jet had woken up earlier during the day, he had, probably for the first time in his life, freaked out.

The girls were there, lying on the pristine marble floor, possibly passed out from exhaustion, or maybe just sleeping, he had no idea at that time. Jet had panicked hard then, for they were both unmoving, and he did not know how to approach the situation. He gingerly poked Cat's tummy, and was scared when she did not move or react. He then poked Nell in the hope that probably she would say something, and he was not wrong.

"Mmmm," she groaned, before turning on her side and begin snoring.

Jet was relieved to see this response and he sighed expressing it. He proceeded to check Cat's pulse after that, and when he felt it, quite regular and fine, he felt much better, his heart slowing down to a much normal pace and he stood up. it was now that he took stock of his surroundings, the soft ambient lighting that he was sure hadn't been there when they had arrived there post the bloodbath, the long black reception counter, the blood red carpet that was spread out from the door all the way to the broadest stairway, in the likeness of a mansion that he had seen in a film a long, long time back. The air was conditioned here, thankfully, and his eyes flitted to the ceiling with its many chandeliers, sparkling brightly with the combination of light and crystals, and Jet could just tell that it must weigh a lot. There were many of them there, and then he realised that all the lighting came from them alone, and not any other source.

Jet started walking softly towards the reception desk, both intrigued and wary. The place looked just so grand… he assumed it to be a hotel, and he had never been in one before. Hotels were expensive and only high-profile people booked rooms there, but he had heard good things about them. He had seen the main hotel of District Ten back home from afar, and although that had appeared to be grand then, it was nothing compared to where he was now. however, while he was currently interested in exploring the premises of this beautiful place, he couldn't help but feel a sense of fear and hesitation. In the arena, beautiful places often spelled doom, as far as he knew, and while none of them had been attacked for the entirety of the time they had been here, Jet was not sure their luck would last long.

It was this thought that made him stop. Probably, this was the best time to leave this hotel, he reasoned. And yet, his feet body refused to cooperate with that thought, as if it had a mind of its own, and his heart was pulling at him to the reception counter. He did not know what was happening but it felt to him as if something was calling him, calling him closer and closer and closer…

He heard a stirring behind him, and he quickly forced himself to turn around, only to see Nell sitting cross legged on the floor, yawning.

"Um…what?"

Jet blinked on hearing her first words.

"We escaped the bloodbath," he replied flatly, "And we came here, to this hotel. I think we all just passed out from exhaustion or maybe we fell asleep. I don't know."

Tink immediately looked completely alert at his words, her eyes darting cautiously even as they fell on Cat, who was still sleeping peacefully, curled up like a ball. Tink grabbed her arm gently and then started giving her a shake, repeating her name again and again.

"Cat, Cat wake up. Cat. Cat wake up. Wake up. Wake up Cat!"

"Mhmm," was all Cat did, before curling up even further. Tink was shaking her hard now, and any person would have woken up after this treatment as far as Jet was concerned, but not their ally, who simple turned to her other side, her lips moving as if she was chewing something in her dream…?

"WAKE UP!" Tink screamed, bringing her lips close to her ally's ears. Jet could feel the frustration off of her, the frustration of the situation that they were in. Jet watched from a distance as Cat yelled out in fright, sitting up straight in a rapid motion, almost toppling Tink down, as she looked around frightened, her bright eyes full of shock and caution.

"What happened? What happened?!"

"Nothing, haha. Just wanted to wake you up."

Cat heaved a sigh of relief at that, followed immediately by a loud annoyed groan. It was now that she looked groggy, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and Jet, who had been watching the entire thing happening with a disinterest, turned back around towards the reception desk. His heart was beating faster again, and he took a step forward, then another even as his brain shouted at him to turn back and leave. Jet was someone who used his thoughts and mind to make decisions, not his heart or feelings; thus, this overpowering desire to explore the hotel, beginning with that large counter, made no sense to him. Yet, he could not stop, his legs disobeying him as they moved forward of their own accord.

"Jet, where are you going?"

He barely registered Tink's voice as he simply drifted forward. He did not know what was happening? Was it some magic?! He did not believe in magic but…

…He figured it out.

He wanted to see it, see the hotel and see the lavish lifestyle the Capitol bragged about. His heart wanted to _live_ it, experience it. Yes, Jet loved his cows, especially Moo and Benny, but he wanted to _know_ what being rich meant. He had the opportunity right now, to live the life of the richest people in the world since he was in the Capitol in twisted sense, but he was here nonetheless. He wanted to see the Capitol, feel both the tangible and the intangible, and maybe, just maybe, his heart was fed up of him for always following his brain.

"Jet… JET COME BACK!"

The shadow from overhead moved just a bit, and Tink's voice was all he heard, when things came crashing down.

* * *

**Nell "Tink" Tinker, 12**

**District Five Female**

* * *

"Jet… JET COME BACK!"

Tink couldn't believe what she was seeing. Jet seemed to be hypnotised, walking ahead ignoring her. He suddenly stopped, and Tink screamed when the large chandelier overhead swayed _hard_, and in the blink of an eye came crashing down on her ally. Jet didn't even scream as it crushed him, the cannon exploding so loudly that her eardrums could have had burst.

No… Jet couldn't be gone…This couldn't be happening…

Had they survived the bloodbath only for _this_?! They had come so far… escaped those bloodthirsty Careers, literally risked breaking their legs and even dying, and this… this…

Tink just stood there, unblinking, staring at the heap that was the chandelier, her friend's corpse buried under it. It was as if she was in a daze, and she did not even notice the movement of the shadow that was over her own, she just stood there. And suddenly, somebody had crashed into her with their full strength, sending them both crashing down onto the floor. It was the shattering of the second chandelier, right where Tink had been standing a few moments ago, and it was then she gathered her surroundings. Cat had just saved her life.

"We need to leave!" she cried out, shaking her head _very_ hard as her tics intensified. Tink blinked. Yes, yes of course. They needed to get away, they needed to get away, they needed to…

The air seemed to get colder and colder, not like the pleasant air conditioning they had been experiencing till now, but so frigid instead. Tink hugged her jacket around her tiny body, it honestly not being much help. The two girls started running towards the main gate, avoiding the path where the chandeliers hung overhead, although that was quite hard to implement in practice since they were _everywhere_.

The girls picked up their bags, and Jet's- Tink's heart skipped a beat- and tried to get out when she noticed that the air conditioners were emitting a white gas. It was so fine that they couldn't see it at all initially, and only noticed when they got closer to the glass door. Tink tried o hold her breath, but she was sure that she had managed to inhale that white gas nonetheless.

And she did not care.

There were so many things to do in the hotel. They could search for real food. Stay in a comfortable bed, play games that must surely be around in the kid's section. Why were they trying to get away? What was in it for them?

"Tink, why did you stop?! We need to leave!" Cat screamed. She had pulled the turtle neck collar to her nose and was holding it in place with her hand and Tink wondered why she did that. What was there to run from? Tink inhaled normally, and shook her head. She'd stay here, she'd stay here for the remainder of her life.

Nevertheless, Cat pulled her along forcefully to the glass door and pushed through… or tried to. The door refused to budge at all, no matter how hard Cat banged on it with her small fists. Tink felt relieved, now she could explore this place and stay here forever and binge eat to her heart's content. She couldn't understand why Cat was getting so frustrated, why she was swearing, and why she was running from one window to the other, hitting on the glass panes, but nothing happened. It was almost as if the walls of the hotel had heard what Tink wanted, and she yawned.

"Cat, let's go up. Maybe we can find something to eat."

Cat looked at her incredulously, as if she had said something rather ridiculous. Tink scoffed. Why was she behaving this way? Did she not want to live a life of luxury? A life that was away from all troubles of the real world? A thought flickered in her mind… something had gone wrong just a little while ago… But what was it? She couldn't quite remember it. Something had happened, something had happened that she should remember but she couldn't, but she pushed that thought away. Her eyes flitted to the staircase, and Tink started walking towards it dreamily. She walked and walked up the red carpet, feeling content and happy and sleepy, and she entered a beautiful corridor with statues lining against the walls, but she went on and on until she spotted _the_ door, the door that she just knew would have her beautiful bed.

Indeed, it was there, the biggest bed that she had seen, with fat pillows. She saw an ornate mirror, and immediately she was there, checking her reflection. Hmm, she did not look the best. Perhaps she could take a bubble bath first?

"Tink!"

Cat was there now, right behind her, her mouth and nose still covered. Tink frowned. Why did she look so worried? Cat's behaviour confused her beyond belief. She didn't want to enjoy herself; she didn't want _Tink_ to enjoy herself. How selfish was that?

"What is it?"

"Uh…" Cat said, and then giggled, "Well, you're right. This is a great place to live."

"I know right!"

"Yeah… and you know what is the _best_ part about it?"

"What?" Tink asked eagerly, wanting to see the best part for herself.

"The view!"

"The view?"

"Yeah!" Cat exclaimed excitedly, "The view is fantastic! I was just checking one of the other rooms, and they have this huge balcony, almost palatial, with a view over the capitol. It's beautiful!"

Tink's eyes brightened at that. A fantastic view? A balcony that was almost royal? She sighed happily. That was the beauty she was here for. She nodded in excitement like a child that was about to receive a brand-new toy, and Cat ushered her towards the balcony, sliding the glass door aside, and pushing her out onto it.

The moment she was out, cool gusts of wind hit Tink in the face, slapping away her drowsiness, making her wide awake… and _very _aware.

"What the hell was I doing?!" she cried out as she recalled how stupidly she had been acting. She had wanted to stay in the hotel, live her life there. She had earlier been forgetting something important, but now she remembered it again; Jet had _died_ there. As the realisation hit her again, along with the memory of her own actions and obsessions with staying there, she couldn't help but gasp startled, and her eyes pricked with tears that she did not shed.

"Dude, you were _insane_ back there," Cat commented, uncovering her nose finally, "It was that stupid gas back there. Jet must have inhaled it there without knowing, and for some reason it might have affected him more…"

The gas… the gas. Tink remembered the white fumes that were coming out of the air conditioners. Yes, she had tried to hold her breath but she had inhaled it anyway. Now she knew shy Cat had been so particular about covering her nose and mouth. But then…

"How did I recover in a second?"

"You didn't," Cat sighed, wrinkling her nose and sniffing, "We've been here for ten minutes and you had almost passed out. Then you suddenly became yourself."

"What?"

"It's not the time for it. We need to leave. I've got this rope, let's climb down."

Tink just stood at her place trying to process everything while Cat checked whether the rope was tight enough or not. She signalled to Tink that it was good to go, and the younger girl walked over to the rails even as Cat started climbing down. It was hard for her, and Tink could see that she was terrified and yet going strong. This really helped Tink to gain more clarity than before, and when Cat was safely on the road, Tink followed suit. She took much lesser time and her feet landed on the road. Gingerly, she released the rope.

And then it washed over her again, how Jet just died in front of her. She was there, she had been standing close to him, she could have had saved him. she could have had done something, _something_! But she had let him go, she let him die, she didn't do anything… her fists clenched by her sides as she lips quivered, her eyes looking at the beautiful hotel, tears flowing down her cheeks. She had let him die… she didn't save him…

"You could have done nothing," Cat said kindly, putting her hands on Tink's shoulders, "Neither of us could."

However, Tink was deaf to her words. She was not the closest to Jet, but he was a friend, a _child_, just like her. And he was gone right in front of her eyes.

And she did nothing.

"Tink…"

The younger girl spared a glance towards Cat, gesturing her to go on.

"We have to win Tink," Cat whispered, "There are only two of us left. There can be two victors. We have to win."

Those words were like thunder on Tink's ears. No, she wanted to live alright, but Cat had probably said something that she might not have had the intention to. If Tink was t choose one victor with her, it would always be Cat, and she hated herself for admitting it. At the same time, she knew that Cat had the same thoughts. Probably- Tink gulped as she thought this- probably Jet going was the best thing that could have happened to the two girls.

And she burst into tears at that thought. How could she be so selfish? How could she find a positive in the demise of her friend? What was she becoming? Cat pulled her into a hug, and Tink threw her arms around the other girl, sobbing. She rarely ever cried, but tonight was such a night that her tears had to flow, and she was in no place to stop them.

"We'll get through this, Tink. We'll get through this."

* * *

**Eulogies:**

**18****th****\- Jet Leather (crushed by a chandelier): Jet was an amazing character, and I loved the boy so much. He had a really interesting perspective, and I enjoyed writing him a lot. He was a really tough guy, with an intriguing love for animals, and he was actually relatable too. Rest in peace Jet, you'll be missed.**

**Alliances:**

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**This Was Bound To Happen: Kai, Dakota**

**Sisters: Cat, Nell**

**Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook**


	26. Chapter 26

**Day Two**

* * *

**Aron Rail, 14**

**District Six Male**

* * *

Aron was still not sure about how he felt regarding the car they were in.

So far, it had been like an ordinary car. Akira had driven them to a vending machine last night and gotten two cans of coke. Aron did not want to have it, but he was feeling hot and tired and he opened the can and took a swig, first taking a drop then another until the can was empty. It was then that Akira started drinking too, for she had 'trouble opening it'. Aron had scoffed; what kind of a person has trouble opening a can. She had finally succeeded though, and the coke was gone in a second.

Akira had smacked her lips delightfully, thrown the can like a ball into the garbage bin and hopped back into the car, Aron quietly sliding in next to her. Within a few minutes, Akira was snoring, right by the vending machine, and Aron had just stared at the night sky, determined to not follow her. He had a lot to ponder on, especially about what he should be doing. His eyes had started to droop though, but a cannon in the wind alerted him that something was wrong, and in an instant, he was up, fully conscious.

Somebody had died now, at this time. Admittedly, Aron had no idea _what _this time was, but he could tell that it was late. Were the Careers out hunting? Had the Five actually designed mutts? He had been secretly hoping that they wouldn't know anything about those, but he was not so sure now. What amazed him the most, however, was how Akira slept on, not even reacting a bit, her snores getting louder and louder. Aron looked past her at the vending machine. Could they find another one like it, but for snacks instead? The coke had not been poisonous, it had been a while since he drank it. Maybe the food would be the same? Aron sighed; that was a little too optimistic for him. He was certain that they wouldn't just put food out there. However, he was thinking about the possibility, and while he wanted to stay up through the night, he didn't even know when he had fallen asleep.

Hence, it was understandable that he was slightly furious with himself when he woke up the next morning.

He was alert almost instantly, looking around whether he was alright. He checked the supplies that they had, he checked whether he was completely fine, and finally he looked at Akira, who was still sleeping, snoring away. Aron sighed in exasperation, leaning back into his seat. The sky was pink, as if dawn had just broken, the sun not really visible in its totality. Would the Careers be up right now? Staying at one place could be dangerous, and who knew for how many hours they'd been there?

"Akira," he muttered, shaking her gently at first. She muttered something about gowns and grabbed his hand. She pulled it to her chest, smiling in her sleep, and it took all of Aron's willpower to not feel embarrassed. He yanked his hand back and Akira's smile turned into a frown. However, she did not wake up.

"Akira!" he said, a little louder now, but she just turned her head the other way. No matter how much Aron shook her, how much he shouted in her ears, how much he threatened to leave her behind, she kept sleeping. He considered driving the car himself. Why should he depend on her anyway? The idea seemed better to him, and with that thought, he got off the car, went to Akira's side, and started pushing her away where he had been. She apparently got annoyed in her sleep, for she moved her hand so forcefully that she literally slapped him.

Aron's hand moved to his cheek in an instant, wincing in pain, shocked at what had just happened. He wanted to hit her now and swear at her but all that came out was, "Bloody gold digger!"

"Gold?"

Akira's eyes flew open at the word, and she sat up straighter, groaning with a stiff back. however, she immediately turned to him, eyes as bright as the mentioned metal, and she grinned.

"Where's gold?"

Aron blinked at her for a second, before grabbing her hand and pulling her out. He was done with her stupidity, and he told her so as well, instructing her to take the other seat and that he would drive. Akira looked offended, but Aron mustered the cruellest glare he could, and she scurried away, doing as he told her to. Aron sighed to himself. Akira was becoming a liability, and while he_ wanted_ her to live, he _needed _to stay alive… and needs were more important than wants. Perhaps, he should dump her the moment he got a chance. That would make things much easier for him.

Aron didn't even realise that she was talking to him, or that he had started driving. A person his age probably wouldn't know how to do it, but he had had to make some escapes through stolen cars. He didn't know exactly what would qualify as a 'safe space' here, but it felt good to be driving, with the wind blowing through his gently, the cool morning air fresh and pleasant. He was also curious about the two buttons that were on the windshield; one red and the other green. He didn't know their purpose, but they looked so out of place that he did not want to try them. Besides, he still did not trust the car. So far it had been like a normal car, and he didn't know whether he actually wanted to leave it or not. It would be really beneficial in running from Careers and mutts. But he didn't know how long they were actually allowed to keep it for? Aron had never felt so clueless in life. He was having trouble making simple decisions, decisions he would make in a heartbeat, like ditching Akira. And yet… it was getting frustrating.

Akira screamed suddenly, and Aron instinctively applied the brakes. The car skidded to a halt, and Aron inhaled sharply. This was not good… not good at all… What the hell did he get himself into?!

For there, right in front of him, stood the Careers.

"Well, well," Nereus smirked, "Here are the mice."

And Aron really felt like a mouse right about now. His hands clutched the wheels tightly, the gears of his brain turning as he considered the possibilities. Going reverse would take time, plus it would divert his focus as well. He could try running over the Careers, but there were many of them, and since the car didn't have a roof or windows, being fancy and all, some of them could strike them and everything would be useless. He had nothing to offer in the scenario of a negotiation, plus the Careers didn't really look in a mood to negotiate anyway.

"A-Aron?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "We're doomed."

And with that, he did the only thing that seemed reasonable of all the options.

* * *

**Avni Silvan, 17**

**District Ten Female**

* * *

Avni couldn't sleep for the whole night.

There were a lot of things to occupy her mind currently. She was really here, in a deathmatch. Jet was gone… He was really gone. Tears had pricked her eyes and had cascaded down her cheeks as she recalled the little boy. He had been the one who had given her the strength to continue, to gear up and to take up the challenge. She wished she was dead instead. She was going to die anyway, if she could save someone as good as her little friend, it would have been a happy thing for her too.

But she had missed the opportunity, and Jet was _dead_. She sobbed quietly through the night as the group made camp on the pavement itself. She had agreed to keep watch, but mostly so to mourn the demise of her friend. She remembered that she had asked Jet to tag along with her the night of the parade. He had refused, saying he could team up with 'old ladies' like her, and Avni couldn't help but blame herself for it. She could have talked him into it. He would have been safe in their group, with the older kids, all of whom were reluctant to hurt the younger ones. She should have saved him during the bloodbath. She should have done _something_!

The thought made her bitter about herself. She did not deserve to be alive. She had let her family die, she did not save her friend. She was useless, and the world did not need people like her.

She felt an arm wrap around her, and she leaned back against Rook's shoulder. She had not sensed his presence when he crept up to her, and he did not say a word, but she knew he knew what she felt. He held her tightly, remaining wordless, and another sob escaped her lips. On his part, Rook made no attempt to make her stop crying. Instead, he just laced his fingers with hers, and she squeezed her friend's hand tightly.

They remained silent till dawn, when Rook finally spoke.

"I think you should sleep for a couple of hours."

"I… can't," she whispered shakily, "I don't have it in me. I just- I just-"

She could not bring herself to complete the sentence though. _I just want to die._ She did not want to appear like a drama queen to her friend, and he seemed to have taken the hint, sighing softly.

"You couldn't have done anything Avni," he muttered, his eyes looking down at their hands, "Nothing at all."

"I don't know. I don't even know how or when he died. Maybe, maybe if I had stayed back at the cornucopia, I could have- I could have saved him…"

"Or maybe you both could have been killed," Rook pointed out.

"I'm destined to die anyway."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"It will…"

Her voice cracked as she said that, and to her surprise, Rook embraced her tightly, as if he did not want to let go of her at all. His grips tightened on her hand, and she found herself hugging him back. He was her only friend here, the only one who genuinely cared about her. And as he held her, muttering words of comfort and hope in her ears in that extremely compelling voice of his, Avni knew what she had to do.

Rook would _not_ go out like Jet. Rook would win. Rook would go home, back to his family, back to his life. Rook would live even and she was going to ensure that even if it was the last thing she did. Her life was meaningless anyway, but she would play to survive now, survive to help Rook live, and now that was all she cared about. Everyone who came close to her died. But Rook wouldn't, he wouldn't. She would make sure of that.

"If it makes you feel better," Rook said, releasing her gently and smiling in that charming way, "I've lost my family too."

"What?" Avni exclaimed, feeling heartbroken, "I'm really sorry..."

"It's alright, been a long time."

His face had darkened now, his eyes lost in thought as if reminiscing the events long gone, and this time it was Avni who wrapped her arm around him.

"My mother disappeared. My father… I don't know what happened to him."

Something about it didn't feel right. While Rook looked right in her eyes as he said it, the bit about his father felt like a lie. Avni was sure he knew what happened to his father, but she didn't press the subject, for Rook shook his head very slightly, as if he had figured out that _she_ had figured out that he was lying. Avni got why he did that, probably it was dangerous for him or his family if the people in power, whether Capitolites or the Five, found out.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it not only for his loss, but for the circumstances that did not allow him to speak freely of it. She was furious with everything, these barbaric people. She cursed the day her parents thought that settling here would be a good idea. She cursed the day the Five showed up again, and all these emotions made her angrier by the second.

"Avni," Rook said, and his tone was different now, as if he meant business now, "I think, very soon, we should-"

However, before he could finish telling her what they should do, they were startled by the sounds of two cannons exploding in the wind. Avni cried out, her hand immediately going to her heart. That had been so sudden… Were two more people just _dead_?! It couldn't be happening… children were _really_ killing other children…

Rook was grim as their allies woke up. Josephine quickly reached out for her sword, even as Cairn and Lyanna started looking around rapidly.

"Who? What?" Cairn muttered stupidly, trying to adjust to being suddenly woken up.

"I guess the Careers have started hunting," Rook muttered, "Two cannons at once… we should move."

"We should," Jospehine agreed, "Come on guys. We need to get started."

The alliance hurriedly assembled together like a closely clustered group and started moving together. Avni looked at Rook, asking what he had been talking about earlier, what he wanted to tell her, but he shook his head ever so slightly. Whatever he wanted to say had to wait, the others shouldn't know about it.

As they walked ahead, she reached out for his hand. Not looking at it, he took it gently and squeezed it, and she smiled, reassured that her friend was with her.

If everything went well, he'd be going home.

* * *

**Nereus Naga, 18**

**District Four Male**

* * *

As soon as dawn broke, the Careers decided that they would go hunting.

Nereus had been up the whole night, with Cruxia asleep next to him when he had tried to sleep. His mind was troubled, and he had started pacing the park restlessly. His thoughts were a jumble of events and emotions and it was too hard for him to bear. His father's dead body… Sunil being arrested… Nerida consoling him, giving him the idea that he could volunteer and save Sunil... him training day and night… volunteering for a deathmatch he never wanted to volunteer for… and then the interview night, when Jason broke the news to him, his sister had plotted the ruins of his whole family for some meaningless money and property… and then he recalled how he had killed Ark, poor innocent Ark. He leaned against a tree, tears flowing down his cheeks.

How could he be so stupid and dumb? How could he allow someone to use him so brutally, to destroy him in such a manner? How could Nerida do this to him? His heart still did not want to believe it, but he knew it was true. It was a perfect plan, after all. Get everyone out of the way and inherit the Academy, the school and the hotels. She'd have to share if he were around… and why would she do that? After all, loyalty was for the weak, the stupid and the fools. He was all three of them, and she was none.

He had learnt his lesson though, and that could be perceived as a 'positive' side of the whole thing. He had learnt that cruelty thrived whereas kindness had no place in this selfish world. He was done with being a good boy, now was the time to turn bad, to eliminate everyone mercilessly, and to win for himself… and probably to also talk to Nerida himself, to make her see that she had underestimated him. The thought pained him constantly, every single second, but he let them come to him. This sadness and betrayal would fuel his drive, he would make his anger his greatest strength.

He was desperate now. Desperate to go out and kill everyone, desperate to get home and save himself, and possibly his step father too. He was agitated, and when all the Careers woke up after their nap, he immediately suggested going hunting. They agreed with him and decided Jupiter should watch over the supplies in their absence. Nereus expected a protest from him, any sign of indignation or refusal. Hence, he was astounded when he nodded, looking visibly relieved, and promised everyone that he would not let anyone get away with supplies. Napoleon volunteered to stay back with him, but he said there was no need, and thus the remaining Careers set out to hunt for tributes.

The silence was heavy as they walked. Nereus clutched his trident tightly, as if his life depended on it. Cruxia had her arrows, and Marge had a collection of throwing knives. Nate and Basil brought up the rear, and after a while Nereus noticed that they were whispering something amongst themselves. Nereus did not pay heed to their conversation, however, and walked with the girls, eyes and ears open.

For a long, long time, nothing seemed to be happening at all. It was as if the whole city was dead. He passed cafes and restaurants, posh salons and boutiques, a water park with rides that he had never even heard of, a futuristic building that was apparently a space centre. This was not expanded over a large area, for the arena wasn't the size of the actual Capitol, but it managed to create the illusion that it was vast, and Nereus could appreciate that.

Suddenly, the group stopped. It was time.

The car swerved into sight, and Nereus saw it was that sneaky Six pair. The girl saw him too, and screamed aloud. The guy hastily applied the brakes, startled, when he saw the Careers.

"Well, well," Nereus smirked, "Here are the mice."

The boy was turning pale with each passing second, and the girl just looked terrified. Aron was certainly considering options, too bad he had none. Akira seemed to understand that too, and she asked him something softly. He noticed Aron answering back and Nereus' smirk grew wider.

Yes, the brats had a car. But it was an open roof one, and pretty useless. Aron was only fourteen too, would he have it in him to drive it over them? Nereus did not think so, and his allies seemed to silently agree with him. Cruxia was the first to react, nocking an arrow and taking aim, even as Aron put the car in reverse. He was trying to race out of there, with Akira looking back to see if the way was clear and Aron keeping his eyes on them. Nereus chuckled in a way he had never thought he'd laugh, his sound one of pure evil, as the arrow went flying and the two kids swayed in opposite directions, narrowly missing it. The arrow got stuck in their bag.

Cruxia took aim again, and Nereus knew her target was Akira because Aron was too young, but he was okay with it. She looked like an easy target anyway. The Careers started attacking them and Aron seemed to realise that reversing wasn't going to help. He still kept going back, when Akira shouted out, "Aron I'm going to try the buttons!"

Buttons?

Akira slammed onto the windshield, and it was then that Nereus noticed that there were two coloured dots on there… No, this couldn't be.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" he screamed, but it was too late.

Even as Nate and Basil rolled away, Marge and Cruxia were directly in the line of sight from the headlights of the car, for it were these lights that suddenly turned red, firing laser beams, hitting both the girls square in the chest. The cannons exploded within a couple of seconds.

"NO!" Nereus cried out, even as Aron slammed on the accelerator, moving at an insane speed, and ran over the bodies. He swerved right, and Nereus could not believe that two kids, two _stupid_ kids, had just killed two Careers, one of them his only friend here…

Basil and Nereus started chasing after the car, and Nereus threw his trident at them. However, Aron was so fast that it missed him completely, unable to even complete the trajectory. The boy from Four stood rooted to the spot. They killed Cruxia… the brats killed his friend. They killed two of his allies with a _bloody_ car! His blood was boiling, his breathing was hard, and he screamed at the sky.

"I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU BOTH EVEN IF THAT IS THE LAST THING I DO!"

He was in a furious trance when he got back to the spot. Nate had checked once again whether the girls were really dead, and his downcast face told Nereus everything he needed to know. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he dropped on his knees beside Cruxia. She looked so shocked… they had been planning to go home together and now she was just… gone.

And despite himself, he allowed himself to weep. He hugged the corpse of his friend and pressed it to his chest, and cried bitterly. He would not let her or Marge's deaths go in vain, not after everything that had happened. Two trained Careers did not deserve this fate.

"I will avenge you," he whispered in Cruxia's ear, "I will avenge you, Cruxia. Thank you. Thank you for being my friend. I will not let you down."

* * *

**Eulogies:**

**17th/16th- Cruxia Marshall (killed by Akira Tuktuk): I loved Cruxia so much. She was a true Career, but also a fine woman with a heart. She was realistic and fun to write, and I loved her stands and her dynamic with Nereus. She was a bold girl, who was not afraid to speak her mind, but also somebody who tried to control her rage. Rest in peace, you will be missed.**

**17th/16th- Margaery Goldman (killed by Akira Tuktuk): Marge was the most chilled out person in the story, and I loved that. I loved how she was tomboyish but that was done in a very natural way. She was skilled and a good character to have in the cast. Thank you Caleb for Marge. Rest in peace girl, you're awesome. And you're awesome too, Caleb! Thanks again for letting me write this! :D**

**Yeah, so there might be confusion as to why I've not given definite placements to these two. It's because they kind of died simultaneously, so you can record it as 17th/16th or allot them whichever placement you wish to out of these two. **

**Alliances:**

**The Hunters: Jupiter, Napoleon, Nereus, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**This Was Bound To Happen: Kai, Dakota**

**Sisters: Cat, Nell**

**Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook**


	27. Chapter 27

**Day Two**

* * *

**Jupiter Aeneous, 18**

**District One Male**

* * *

Jupiter had not tagged along with his alliance, for he needed time to introspect.

He had been an angry man since a long, long time. Not since forever, but since a long while. However, he had never been a monster, so to speak. And yet, he couldn't forget what he had done the previous day, during the bloodbath. His actions were neither justifiable nor explicable, even to himself. All he knew was that he was afraid.

Jupiter Aeneas was afraid of the monster he had become.

He was here to win, not to torture. But all he had done was scare his allies, and possibly even painted a target on his back. He wondered what his siblings thought of him. Were they scared too? Ever since his father passed away, he had been their protector, their _father_, their role model and their provider. No matter how many jobs he got kicked out of, he kept struggling for them. He was here for his late father, for the love and pride the man had for his son. Would he be proud were he alive? Jupiter didn't think so. He had not done something to be proud of, and was honestly ashamed of his actions. He thought about Evander, his best friend. How disappointed he must be! Evan always tried to keep him calm, to pour water over his fiery rage. He must be so embarrassed because of Jupiter, because of Jupiter the Monster, and this made the District One boy's heart ache. He had let everyone down. Every single person who mattered.

Jupiter felt utterly lost. What was he supposed to do? Shame and guilt seemed to be drowning him. he felt suffocated, breathless, and he wanted to get away. He just couldn't see a way forward, for there was darkness all around him.

Jupiter sat down on a swing, his hands curling around the chains as he recollected memories of his father, his childhood. He loved swings a lot and he remembered his father used to take him to the park often. He was a stoic and proud man, but he was good to him. Jupiter loved swings as a child shrieking at little birds with joy, going higher and higher only to come back and going higher again, only from the reverse direction. His father had wanted him to be a victor, being the Capitol loyalist that he was. But Jupiter… he never had any interest in the Games. The killing disgusted him, filled him with terror and guilt and pity, but he could never say that to his father for he did not want to hurt him. and then he passed away, because of those blasted rebels and here Jupiter was, trying to fulfil his father's dreams. But would he be proud of such a cruel son? He was always on about honour… and what Jupiter had done was not honourable at all. What would his father think if he was alive?

Two cannons blew up simultaneously, jerking Jupiter awake from his trail of thoughts. He frowned, looking at the birds who started flying, startled. Had his allies secured two kills at once? Or had two people just died simultaneously? Jupiter did not know but he was glad that the competition was thinning. Maybe this was what was going to fuel him to steel his heart further and just go for it.

He was lost deep in thought when his allies returned. Well, all except two…

He stood to his feet quickly, frowning, facing the other boys. Nereus looked beside himself with anger, so did Basil. Nate was just looking down at the grass, as if he did not want to address him… or anyone. Jupiter couldn't understand where the girls were? Had they ditched them? Or…

"Where are they?" he demanded, looking from one boy to the other.

In response, Nereus kicked the nearby bench with anger, toppling it over. Basil just huffed, and it was Nate who responded, his voice that of pity and sadness.

"They're gone," he said, looking up finally, looking into Jupiter's eyes, "Dead."

The very earth seemed to part from under Jupiter's feet. He blinked a couple of times, looking at Nate as if he was not sure what he had heard was correct. There obviously had to be a mistake. Two Careers, trained Careers, just gone? Marge… he had grown fond of her. Was she really just dead?

"You can't be serious," he said finally, "Those two are trained Careers. I refuse to believe two Careers are just dead."

"I wish this was a lie, but it's true. These two kids, they had a car-"

"What?!"

"- and this car had these weird laser beams. The girls were right in front of them, and died the moment it hit them. The kids then just drove o-over them, and they- they got away."

Jupiter stared at Napoleon, dumbfounded. Two kids killed two Careers with a _car_. _A car!_ It was so ridiculous and outrageous at the same time that Jupiter didn't know how to react. How could such a thing even happen? He thought about Marge, the only person who had truly been good to him here despite somewhat different methods of going about things. He would miss her, he knew it. Cruxia too. His heart felt heavier than it already did, and he sighed, sitting down on the ground.

For a while, nobody spoke. Jupiter did not know whether it was a second, a minute or an hour, and he did not care. He was grateful for the silence, for he needed to toughen his heart and think. The Careers had shrunk all of a sudden, with only four members, whereas their main competition and the largest alliance now had all their members alive. He knew Josephine was highly capable, and that Lyanna was strong too. He wouldn't discount the others either even though neither Cairn nor Rook had shown any exceptional performance anywhere, and despite everything he wanted to get back at Avni, that stupid wannabe heroine, who had slipped through his clutches in the Bloodbath…

Jupiter knew that the boys had to devise a strategy _now. _they could not afford to be stupid; they could not afford to be reckless. All the four of them needed to stay alive to tackle the big alliance. And with that thought, Jupiter was back in form. He would think about right and wrong later. Of course, he was not going to torture anyone anymore, but he was ready to trap and to kill.

He beckoned to the others to gather around him. It was high time they had a valuable discussion regarding their current position.

* * *

**Night Two**

* * *

**Dakota Neenah, 15**

**District Nine Female**

* * *

The day had been had been quieter than the previous one.

There had been two deaths, although Dakota did not know who they were yet. She felt bad for hoping that it was someone among the Careers, because it was wrong to wish death on anyone, but Dakota was desperate.

And right now, she was hungry too.

Dakota was used to hunger and poverty, just like the countless people of her District. Things had been getting better back home, but not her situation. And yet, she had always managed to keep all her problems at bay, enjoying life thoroughly, exploring things even the rich couldn't. As she saw the massive and elegant structures around her, she was tempted to do so again. Dakota was a free spirit after all, and being scared to death only worked for a little while. She was exhausted of being frightened now. What were the chances that fear was going to keep her alive anyway? Little to none, as far as she was concerned.

And she was tagging along with a guy as reckless as her.

She voiced out once that she was hungry, and he looked weirdly at her, as if she had said something of otherworldly level of stupidity.

"Why didn't you say that before? Let's go dine."

Dine?

It was now Dakota's turn to look at him appraisingly, brows raised. Where on earth was this posh guy going to take her to dine? In a freaking arena no less. She voiced her concerns to him, how she thought it was implausible what he suggested, and he just regarded her like a stupid kid. When she was done speaking, feeling flabbergasted at seeing nothing but a look of annoyance, Kai turned her around like a kid and pointed at a building. It was dazzling in green lights, with the words 'Café Horseboy' displayed brightly.

"Café Horseboy?"

"It's the Capitol," Kai replied, as if that somehow explained the name. Dakota shrugged, looking back at the structure. It looked like a quaint place from outside, although a little too bright, and she wondered whether there would be actual food there. It was highly unlikely, and she didn't even know _why_ they were considering it in the first place, but she was hungry and tired and there seemed to be no better idea. She just hoped that there were no mutts in there, and she said that to Kai as they started walking towards it.

"Eh," was all he said.

Eh it was then. Dakota didn't care anymore to be honest. She was fed up of hiding and running and suppressing her nature. Going to a café in an _arena_ was the most reckless thing one could do… and it honestly felt good. Add to it the fact that her friend…? was also with her, and she felt much safer. They got away from the Careers, they would get away from mutts too. She just hoped the food wouldn't be poisoned though.

Café Horseboy was elegant enough to make Dakota think she was dreaming. The lights changed after a little while, but keeping ambient enough. It had a polished marble floor, with tables that were designed from the finest tree woods from Seven, and they were greeted by a smiling girl dressed in a very typical Capitol outfit, a neon pink dress spattered with different colours, her hair dyed in all the shades of a rainbow, her green winged eyeliner making her hazel eyes even prettier. Dakota was staring at her, her mouth agape, and Kai was doing the same.

"Hey beautiful," Dakota said, winking despite herself. She was chiding herself for being a flirt right now, but the girl was breathtakingly stunning, and Dakota was feeling stupid.

The girl laughed, blushing lightly. She said, "Welcome to Café Horseboy! May I get you a table for two?"

"Yes, please," both of them said together.

"This way, please," the girl said, and the two of them started following her unquestioningly, the hunger already forgotten. The place was beautiful, with all the decorations Dakota liked, and it had a very serene feel to it. she inhaled deeply, and she could feel the fragrance of flowers wash over her. She sighed in content.

The girl ushered them to a corner table, in a parlour that gave them privacy from the other diners… and Dakota was astonished to see how many diners were there. Friends sitting on large tables, laughing cheerily. Couples holding hands. Families laughing with their children. Dakota smiled as she took the seat, feeling very homely at this café.

"Would you like to have a candle light dinner or should I let this be as it is?"

"Candle light," Dakota smiled before Kai could get a word out. He looked at her incredulously, and she winked back. The girl smiled lightly, and then things were a whirl of events, their orders having been taken, the lights gone in their parlour, replaced by candles. Soon the food had arrived, and Dakota inhaled it in satisfaction. The aroma of freshly baked bread and pasta along with a strong mug of coffee, made her feel even better than she already did.

Kai was smiling at her, his features accentuated in the dim light of the candle, and Dakota found herself blushing. He looked incredibly handsome, with the finest features she had seen in a man. She did not care that he was three years older than her. She listened intently as he talked about life back at home, about his work at the haunted house, his dislike for children and the poor. Dakota herself was both a child and poor, and she was upset that Kai didn't like them, because she wanted him to like _her_. She could have told him about herself in return, but she refrained, and was careful as she recounted the many tales and adventures she had with her sister, and Kai laughed heartily.

And she didn't even know when or how it happened. She leaned towards him and kissed him on both the cheeks and she was back in her chair, and she felt incredibly calm, her hand in his. Kai was smiling widely in the candlelight, and Dakota could say he was the most handsome guy she knew.

Neither of them wanted to leave the parlour, wanting to just sit their and talk and talk and _talk._ The food also was not poisoned, and Dakota was not even surprised. Obviously the pretty and kind girl wouldn't poison them, and then things were again a whirlpool of events. The girl said the bill was taken care of, because they didn't have such cute couples come every day, and then she was leading them up a staircase, into a room to get a good night's sleep…

Dakota' cheeks flushed as she saw the room and the single double bed in there. She was suddenly very aware of Kai's presence next to her, and that she had hugged him tightly. She wanted to take things further, much further. A nagging voice in her mind told her to snap out of it, as if she was doing something wrong, but she pushed it away as she closed her and leaned forward…

And then Kai pushed her back.

The actioned was like a jolt to her, as if somebody had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over her head. She looked at Kai, bewildered, who looked as stunned as she felt.

What on _earth_ was she about to do?!

"It's a trap," he said gravely, "Why didn't I see it before? My mind was so clouded…"

_Same_, Dakota thought, feeling angry and stupid and ashamed. She didn't know what exactly happened, but she had even married Kai in her mind, and the very thought seemed to horrify her now. he took her hand again, but not in the romantic way he had earlier, and started pulling her along down the staircase. The diners were still there, and that was when Dakota noticed it.

They were having the same conversation they'd been having when they had come here.

Panic filled her heart as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Was this place enchanted? Were these people mutts? The thought didn't make her particularly happy. She started sneaking towards the exit, pulling Kai along. There was only one door, the one they had entered Café Horseboy through, and if it weren't for years of experience of sneaking around, Dakota wouldn't have made it there unnoticed. Even as they were about to leave, the pretty girl from before appeared in front of them, looking disappointed.

"Did you not like the services?" she asked, her voice angelic and beautiful, and Dakota felt herself going dreamy once again, but then Kai spoke up.

"They were fine," he said in his usual arrogant style, "But we need to leave. Busy day and all."

"But," the girl said pleadingly, "Can I please have feedback?"

And Dakota cried out in terror as she saw a transformation in front of her eyes, a most bizarre thing in her life, for where the girl's legs were, there now stood furry hindquarters, and she gained height, her tail long and looked dangerous. She smiled at us, her lower body a horse, the upper body a girl, and Kai screamed as he saw her.

"Ah, I'd been waiting for this. Feedback?"

"Isn't this Café Horse_boy_?" Dakota asked, and immediately realised that it was the worst thing she could have had asked. The horse_girl_'s smile vanished, replaced by an angry snarl, and she did not look pretty anymore.

"I _told_ them!" she roared, "But they said it will be expensive to change the board! As if! Duh."

"That's a pretty rotten luck," Dakota said sympathetically, keeping her voice level even though she was dying of terror on the inside.

"You think so?"

"Yep. Boys get credit all the time, even when they're not involved."

"Exactly! I'm so glad somebody understands my pain!"

And the horsegirl- a centaur, Dakota reminded herself- gave her a hug of gratitude in sharing her pain. Dakota patted her arm, for her shoulders were too high for her to reach, and the centaur started ranting about boys, how evil, useless and mean they were, and how she wanted to kill them whenever she saw them, but as a firm believer of being the best hostess she could possibly be, she let them stay alive while they used her services. Dakota glanced in Kai's direction for a single second, before telling the centaur her own experiences with horrible boys. Thankfully, Kai took the hint, and slipped out through the gates.

Dakota, on the other hand, consoled the girl and took her to the kitchen, giving her some nice wine, presence of which she had not expected in a café, and filled the feedback form. She blushed at the last question, asking her how her romantic experience was, and she skipped it. Then, she asked the centaur about where the bathroom was, and thankfully she did not follow her there. As she had many times before, she sneaked out soundlessly from the café, and bolted as fast as she could. Kai was waiting for her, hiding behind a vending machine, and she joined him in running away.

"What the hell was that?!" Kai exclaimed, "What?"

"No idea," Dakota said, "She was not really bad though."

"Yeah, at least for girls," Kai grumbled, "But… how did you do that?"

"I guess even mutts need to simply vent sometimes."

"I guess so."

They collapsed on the footpath after what felt like a running a marathon. As she caught her breath, she looked at Kai, and everything came flooding back to her. She blushed furiously now, turning away hastily. What had she been thinking?!

"Well, th-th-"

Dakota knew what he wanted to say. And that was enough for her, there was no need for him to say the word that he had never said before in his life.

"You're welcome," she smiled, "That's what friends are for, right?"

He blinked at her, staring for a few seconds, and then nodded, smiling. A real smile, like the one back at the café.

There were a lot of questions in her mind, but now was not the time. Now was the time to rest and to cherish the thought of being alive.

* * *

**Basileus Paladino, 18**

**District Eleven Male**

* * *

Basil was not liking their situation.

Two Careers were dead already. One had deserted them before the Games even started. They were down to four boys, with Nereus who was cracking up, Jupiter scheming, Nate being silent and Basil just… being there.

For some reason, ever since his time here began, an eerie calm had descended on Basileus. He was not his overtly angry self anymore; that position seemed to have been taken over by Nereus. And now Basil had time, time to think about his life back home, the rebels who had destroyed it, and his time that went into training. He missed his siblings dearly and he desperately waned to see Yang. Basil had no mood to reflect on what Jupiter had discussed earlier. It seemed that his ally was back to his former self, the remorseful look in his eyes gone, but Basil did not want to even ponder on his strategy, at least not now.

He did feel bad about Marge and Cruxia. He and Marge had slowly started respecting each other, and Cruxia was a fine woman. Basil was still in awe of the fact that two little kids _destroyed _the Careers back there, that too with a freaking car, and had Basil not been on the receiving end of it, he would have found it mildly amusing. Now, he was just upset over what the alliance had lost.

Basil did not want to stay at the cornucopia any longer as well. Yes, all the supplies were there, and Careers needed supplies to sustain, but… there was something off about the place. Maybe because the dried blood was still there despite the corpses being lifted a long time back. The place reeked of death and it did not make Basil very comfortable.

He told his allies that he was going for a walk, for he really needed to stretch his legs. Jupiter offered to come along but Basileus shook his head. His allies looked suspicious, all except Nate, who didn't seem to mind this as much. Exasperated, Basileus just picked up a sickle and no other bag, promising them that he would be back soon, that he just felt restless.

"Don't worry guys," Nate said with a small smile, "Don't go too far all alone Basil. We'll need you."

And he had that reassuring look on his face, as if he really meant it, that the alliance truly needed him. Basil smiled despite himself, nodding at the boy from Two. Napoleon just had that ability to make people feel wanted and better just with his smile, and Nereus and Jupiter didn't fuss over it further.

"If you see the big alliance," Jupiter said, "Get away from them."

"And if it's a smaller alliance," Nereus added, "Lead them here."

Basileus rolled his eyes at the boys and left without a word.

The moment he was away from the park, he felt better. The city still had its lights on, and as he walked down the pavement, he could hear some kinds of music too. Under ordinary circumstances, hearing music in the dead of night would have spooked anyone, but to Basileus, it honestly felt right. What would the Capitol be without music anyway? He took in a deep breath as he walked down the deserted road, the cool air drying his sweat, making him feel fresher than before. He needed the solitude to clear his head, and it was kind of funny to him because clearing his head was not the kind of thing he did usually.

It was when he turned a corner that he saw them; ragged, battered and weak. Basileus stopped in his tracks, a frown on his face, and it was then they saw him too. Nell and Cat came to a halt, their eyes wide as they took in the sight of the Career. For what felt like an eternity, neither party spoke, looking at each other, anticipating a move that might come. Basil did not even bother lifting his sickle.

"Hey," he said awkwardly even as the girls took a step back. He sighed. One of their allies, a mere child, was already dead. The girls looked hungry and weak and scared and he did not blame them. Anyone would be frightened, and he tried for a smile.

Neither of the girls moved. They exchanged a glance, and kept their eyes trained on the sickle in his hands, holding each other's hands. Basil frowned sadly. Yes, he had temper issues and he was quite… volatile, but that did not mean he was going to hurt little kids! He could never hurt little kids, they reminded him way too much of his family, his little siblings, and he could never bring himself to hurt them. He was secretly glad that both Ark and Jet had perished due to other causes, and he himself wasn't involved in their demise.

"Where are your allies?" Nell asked bravely, even though Basil could see that she was terrified.

"Back at the park," Basileus replied, "Speaking of which, I don't think you should go this way. the cornucopia is right down this path."

"It can't be," Cat exclaimed, "We'd know if we were in the area."

"You had escaped through another path, not the gate. The road leads to the park."

There was silence following that statement, and while Cat continued to look sceptical, Nell relaxed considerably, and even managed a weak smile.

"Thanks, Basileus," she said, "But what are you doing here, away from your group?"

"I'm taking a walk," Basil sighed, "We… lost someone today. The alliance was getting too tensed so I decided to just get a breather."

"Makes sense."

"Yeah. Well, I think you kids should hurry along now. Stay away from Careers… they might not let you go easily this time around."

Tink nodded at him, although her eyes seemed to be questioning him as to _why_ he was helping them, a very silent question, but he understood regardless. He blinked slowly at her and smiled back kindly, as kindly as he could manage even as Cat thanked him and started pulling Tink along. The younger girl followed her friend, and even as Basil watched them leave, she looked back for a second, the question still in her eyes, before turning back even as the girls started running now.

Basileus' shoulders slumped as he exhaled. Children that young did not deserve to die. They deserved to grow up, to live a few happy years with their families and friends, to experience the joys of youth and the warmth of love. Unfortunately, these children might not live through any of that.

With that particular thought in mind, Basileus turned around to go back to the park with a very heavy heart.

* * *

**Hi. I know Dakota's POV was a little too long, but that was because of the events in it. I'll try my best to keep the POV lengths uniform, but this might happen again in the future depending on what's happening in that POV. Also, if you're wondering why they were behaving so weirdly back there, it was just the drugs being pumped into Cafe Horseboy. I love making use of _Capitol technology_ in my stories XD **


	28. Chapter 28

**Night Three**

* * *

**Rook Karis, 16**

**District Three Male**

* * *

Rook kept lying on the footpath, his head resting on the jacket he was using as a pillow, even as the anthem played. It wasn't Panem's anthem anyway, its words much more meaningful, but not to him. The others were sleeping, quite unlike themselves to sleep before the anthem but it had been an eventful day being chased by bench mutts. Rook watched calmly as the pictures of the dead flashed, and he was shocked to see they were both Careers. Rook pursed his lips as he observed the new development. Well, could they take a risk of ambush?

Avni stirred beside him. He patted her forehead gently, and she was sleeping peacefully again. Rook took her hand absently, thinking ahead. The Careers were outnumbered currently, but could they take on them? Now would be a great time to strategise but…

Rook cursed himself. Why was he so indecisive? He needed to act soon, he could feel the urgency, and yet he lay still, looking at the stars. Avni squeezed his hand gently and he frowned, turning to look at her sadly. He wanted her to live, he wanted to win alongside her. Rook couldn't quite comprehend what was happening to him. He was exceptionally fond of the girl and he wanted to help her. He wanted her to get a chance at living a good life and leave this stupid country. Heck, he might leave with her if he could. He was fed up with everything, and he was losing hope of ever finding his mother.

He did not realise when his eyes started pricking or when tears pooled in them. Rook rarely cried, he was used to living with evil, but he had never felt so pathetically _helpless. _He hated this feeling more than anything else.

He released his hand gently and stood up slowly. He did not know what he was to do. They were in the final fifteen, and how long would it take to drop to the final eight? He glanced at the sleeping figures. Which one of them will stab him in the back? Something told him he was being paranoid for no reason, but maybe it was better to act that way in a situation of life and death. A sudden desire to wake Avni and leave the spot tried to overtake him. He glanced at her, curled up. He looked at the others. Lyanna and Cairn were pretty much passed out from exhaustion as they had done the most work to get rid of the mutts earlier. And Josephine… she was looking at _him._

"What's the matter?" she whispered gently, raising herself just a bit and supporting her weight on her elbows.

"Unable to sleep," he replied easily, smiling down at her like the charming young man he was.

She sat up completely now, nodding as if this made a lot of sense, then covered her mouth to yawn. She patted the ground next to her as if inviting him to sit with her. Rook was reluctant about it but he kept the smile on his face and did it anyway. Soon, they were sitting side by side, looking at the sky.

"Did I miss the anthem?"

"Yeah…"

"Did anyone go?"

"Yeah."

Josephine looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. How should Rook proceed? That two Careers just died? He still didn't know who or what could have taken out both of them, it just seemed highly implausible.

"Rook?"

"Cruxia," he said, "And Margaery."

Rook chanced a glance at her. Josehine's face was completely unreadable, and she made no sound, no comment, nothing. Rook couldn't tell how she felt about this. After all, as a Career she _must_ feel something.

"Very well," she said finally, her eyes downcast for a moment. She gathered herself quickly though and asked him about his opinion regarding the situation. Rook was slightly taken aback by this for this was a strange thing to be asked at the middle of the night. He also did not know what kind of answer she expected and he knew it was important to reply in a way that satisfied the listener if he wanted to get anything out of the listener.

"I think that…"

"Tell me Rook. You needn't hesitate."

"Right," he said and sighed, making a big show of how uncomfortable he felt even saying this, "Since we have two Careers gone… I think the others will feel threatened. And if they feel threatened, it's not a good sign for _us_. They'd want to get rid of the biggest alliance there is. So, we need to get rid of them as soon as possible."

"So we confront them?"

Rook looked at her with an outward calm and an inner turmoil. He knew just how much ethics and morality mattered to her. Values were of so much importance to her that she had left that gang of Careers. How was she going to react to what he had to say? Again, conflict started in his mind; to say or not to say. It was a hard decision, for his words might have the power to offend Josephine greatly, and he didn't want the strongest member of his alliance to turn on them.

"Rook?"

"I- I need to think on it," he breathed out shakily.

Josephine continued to look at him and he expected her to insist further. His gears started churning at that for he needed to prepare a concrete answer, but then she just sighed and nodded.

"I get it," she said, "Let's discuss it in the morning."

"Yeah, that'll do."

"Goodnight Rook."

"Goodnight."

And Rook lied down again where he had been earlier. He didn't know whether Josephine would sleep or not, but he'd surely be awake. He needed a strategy right now.

* * *

**Day Four**

* * *

**Josephine Marcellus, 18**

**District Two Female**

* * *

Josephine was sure that Rook was uncomfortable last night.

She wasn't sure, however, why this was so. She felt as if he'd tried to leave last night, that her waking up and speaking was what stopped him. She'd not slept the whole night, and was quite aware that he hadn't either. It was when dawn came and Cairn got up that Josephine's eyes drooped and she fell asleep.

It was certainly not more than an hour, and soon they were all up. Rook's eyes were bloodshot, and she felt the case was the same with her.

"You both look like zombies," Lyanna said, and that pretty much summarised everything.

They had bananas for breakfast, and Josephine was lost in thought as she started peeling it, staring at the yellow skin without actually seeing it. Two Careers gone in a day… that was surprising. What would have caused their end? Josephine found it hard to believe that a tribute took them down. After all, Careers travelled in a pack. There was no other alliance as big as the Careers other than her own team. It had to be a mutt, she decided. But if it _was_ a tribute… she needed to find them. They were dangerous and a threat if alive.

Rook told everyone about the deaths the previous day. Josephine noted that Lyanna had a soft smile on her face at the news whereas Cairn just looked tense and Avni appeared to be pensive.

"Now we have to figure out a way to go about it," Rook said finally, "Ideas?"

"Separate them and finish them off?" Cairn said, cringing hard at his own words.

"How will you finish them off?" Avni sighed, "They're armed. We're not."

That was a problem. Josephine was the only one who had a weapon of any sort, a double edged sword, and she tried hard not to find any ironic puns related to it. She leaned back on her elbows and looked at her allies as they contemplated further.

"Yeah but we can try to overpower them," Cairn said, although he himself sounded doubtful of the idea.

"_Try._ There's little chance we'll actually succeed."

"Well, good way to bring down the mood Avni."

"I'm sorry Cairn, but I really don't think separating and attacking them will work. They're smart and strong, stronger than most of us."

"And they're like wolves," Rook muttered.

"Besides, they'll have weapons of their choice and we'll just have our fists."

Josephine exhaled softly. Avni's points were right, and she was glad that it was her pointing out those problems. It gave Josephine time to think. She needed to dance right now, to clear her head and feel better about the whole thing, to feel normal. She didn't know what was happening exactly but she felt stressed, more stressed than she did when Margaery and Cruxia were alive. She could just tell that their next encounter with the Careers wouldn't go well. However, she was also slightly worried that, if she voiced out that particular sentiment, her allies might think that she had 'unconscious loyalty' towards her first alliance. It was nonsensical, but she knew what humans could be like sometimes.

"Well, if we don't have weapons, why don't we just create them?"

Everyone looked up at Lyanna as she said those words, their ears pricked, even as she peeled another banana, seemingly unaware of their curious and aghast stares. Josephine, however, sat up erect, eyes narrowed at her ally as if wanting to hang onto her every word.

"How will we do that, Lyanna?" Rook asked gently, "If the arena was a forest or something, we could definitely do something. But here…"

"You're right, Rook," Lyanna said, taking a bite of her banana, "We're not in a forest. We're in the Capitol."

And then, things clicked in for Josephine and she blurted out, "And the Capitol has _everything_!"

Cairn and Avni exchanged a look even as Rook chuckled as he got it too. The Capitol had every single thing that existed, and Rook was grinning now.

"Well you're right. My bad! We just have to look for a weapon-"

"Or something that can be used as one," Lyanna added.

"We can try by looking at the shopping malls."

"Or just some random house."

"There has to be at least a knife in every house."

"Or we can just carry something like a fire extinguisher and throw it at someone like _bam_!" Rook said and made a very excited movement of throwing a fire extinguisher, a grin on his face. It turned sheepish when he saw the others staring and some stifling their laughter.

"Sorry," he chuckled, "Just wanted to throw something."

They discussed other things that could be used as weapons: buckets, combs, mirrors, Maths textbooks, saucepan, pens, insects and other deadly instruments. Josephine laughed hard as, doubling over as they talked about all the things that could make a good weapon, forgetting completely why they were talking about weapons in the first place.

"Hair pins!" Josephine giggled, "For poking people in the eye!"

"Hot wax," Avni added, "That thing _hurts._"

"Choker," Rook nodded wisely, "For _choking_ them."

They laughed hard at the pun, a pun that might not have made anyone even crack a smile had they not been in such a situation. Their sense of humour had gone down the gutter but it was fine.

"Guys," Cairn said, and he was not smiling at all. In fact, he looked nervous and fidgety, a frown on his face, and he was running his thumb over his fingers, "We have to look for these weapons to take down the Careers. It's time to move."

All the laughter died down within a second, the smiles wiped out, and everyone awkwardly collected their stuff. They loaded their bags, and everyone looked at Lyanna.

"What?" she asked.

"Where do we look?"

"I don't know."

Everyone exhaled collectively as one, shaking their heads.

"How about that building right in front of us?" Josephine said, and pointed… at the building right in front of them. It looked more like a residential complex than a shopping one, but since nobody had any ideas, they crossed the road as one.

Josephine cracked her knuckles, muttering, "Here we go."

* * *

**Lyanna Winters, 18**

**District Twelve Female**

* * *

It was like a palace, if you made the whole thing with coloured glass that shined so brightly it could make one go blind or insane, or both. They literally covered their eyes when they first stepped in, the red glass walls reflecting lights in a way that was just pure torture, and it took a lot of convincing their brains and begging their eyes to attempt to look again.

The floor was also shining brightly and there were lifts in the two corners of the lobby that was so wide that it dazed Lyanna. There was a reception desk, which they conveniently ignored, and headed towards one of the lifts.

"I think stairs would be safer," Rook muttered.

And so, they changed their course and started climbing up the stairs that had remained hidden until they had reached the lift, the door leading to the staircase decorated with a dazzling crying emoticon type thing made of some bright red stone, and it honestly creeped her out.

She was almost glad to be on the first floor, for while it was still shiny, it was bearable. There were plenty of doors on either wall of the corridor that was to the right of the foyer, and they set off. She wondered whether these were rooms or flats, and a part of her was kind of worried about opening any of the doors. Cairn tried a random one without warning and muttered incomprehensible things in frustration.

"It won't budge."

"It will," Lyanna and Josephine said and, in sync, kicked at the door. Despite looking very solid, it was not so, and it flew open, revealing the living room of a nice cosy flat.

"The door's not broken," Avni noted.

"Yeah it isn't," Rook replied, "Guys, some of us should stay at the door while the others look for anything that we can use."

"I'll stay here," Josephine said, "In case this needs to be opened again."

Ultimately, it was Lyanna and Cairn who went in, and Josephine graciously let them borrow her sword. A thought crossed Lyanna's mind as she took the weapon; would Josephine be able to defend herself if she impaled her now? She shook away that malicious thought and smiled gratefully at the other girl, before going into the flat with Cairn. They looked through the drawers and the cupboards and the furniture, strange things she'd not even heard of before. The flat was big, with five vast bedrooms.

"You look in the kitchen, I'll check the bathroom."

"Cool."

The girl opened the door of the bathroom, and the ambience hit her _hard_. Literally everything was gold there; golden curtains, gold basins, gold showers, gold bathtub and even a gold throne, and she rolled her eyes. Even in dire situations, she couldn't have forced herself to use this kind of bathroom. The amount of money that had been spent to make a toilet could have fed a family back in Twelve for a food many months. She started looking through the gold cabinets and found, to her surprise, golden stars. Normal bathrooms didn't have stars, much less those made of gold, but this was no normal bathroom and Lyanna was no fool. She took out a single one and touched its points. Immediately, blood oozed from her forefinger.

She whistled slowly. This was a good weapon, and the star was the perfect size. She threw one randomly at the curtain of the bathtub, and while it didn't hit the bull's eye, it was decent enough and light to use. There were about six of them and she put them all in the pockets of her jacket before leaving the bathroom, a slight smile on her face.

She saw Cairn emerge from the kitchen, looking somewhat even more nervous and anxious than he had earlier, and now she was worried. She put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"

He looked at her, right in the eyes, and that was when she noticed that something was wrong. She had known Cairn for some time now, and all these days that she had worked for him, she had always seen a kind hearted smiling boy who was incredibly shy. However, what she saw now was just plain fear. No shyness, no kindness, nothing. Just fear.

"Cairn!" she exclaimed, grabbing both his shoulders and shaking them a bit.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice a little higher than his usual pitch, and continued, "I found enough knives in there. And…"

"And?"

"Nothing. I think this should be sufficient for all of us."

He was holding an array of knives. A butcher knife, two kitchen knives and a thing that looked like a sickle but really small and its blade looked like an assortment of teeth was placed on it.

"It's sharp," he said when he saw the look on her face, for the blade looked like literal teeth.

"...Right."

"And I found a bottle of water. And iodine to clean it."

"That's cool!"

"I also found a can of pepper spray."

"Well…"

"And I've also taken a box of toffees."

"Dude…!"

Cairn looked at her seriously at that and she gulped at the intense look. She never knew he was touchy about toffees. Or maybe, maybe he just felt so anxious that he thought _everything_ was important.

"What else did you get?" she asked, quite sure that the list was over.

"Kerosene. Loads of it."

"Cairn… where are you keeping all these things?"

"There were shopping bags in the kitchen. I've put everything in a big one."

And then she saw it, a large jute bag along with the backpack they already had. By the looks of it, they were both full.

"The jute bag has only kerosene," he said, "While I'm carrying a matchbox in my jacket."

The gravity of Cairn's situation dawned on her as she heard him say that. He was kerosene _and _a matchbox! What happened to the sweet boy from Twelve?! What happened to her friend?! _Cairn _had such a deadly idea! She was about to react to it, talk to him about what was happening to him, when a loud cry startled her.

"Cairn! Lyanna!"

The two exchanged a glance and rushed out to the door, stopping dead right next to Josephine. Lyanna couldn't believe this was happening already...

The Careers had arrived.

* * *

**Napoleon "Nate" Walter, 18**

**District Two Male**

* * *

It had taken a soda from the vending machines to encourage the Careers into taking action.

The energy of the group was down, and despite talking and talking and talking about plans, their discussion had not reached any fruitful results. None of them had wanted to move. None of them wanted to act. So Nate had told them to take a walk and while they tried to make excuses to stay back, he tagged them along anyway.

So the boys got their cans and drank soda. Can after can, it went on disappearing, but Nate wasn't drinking any. Basileus turned to him questioningly and asked why he refrained from soda.

"Oh, it could have been poisonous," he replied cheerfully.

The boys spewed out their drinks at that and Jupiter angrily grabbed his collar.

"You wanted to kill us?!"

"Not really," Nate replied calmly, not bothering to remove Jupiter's hand, "But I wanted you guys to realise something. Not doing anything won't help. Maybe this drink isn't poisoned. But if we stay still for too long, it'll not be long before the Gamemakers come for us. And so, we need to move."

"You speak as if _we _don't _want_ to do anything!" Nereus exclaimed.

"We've been discussing for hours Napoleon!" Basil muttered.

"And what exactly have we discussed?"

Jupiter's grip slackened on his collar at his words and Nate released himself. He stepped back a bit and smiled lightly at them.

"If we don't do something, we'll be targets for the Gamemakers. We need to _act._"

"But- but what should we do?" Jupiter whispered, "This arena is so huge and complex. We don't know where the tributes might be. We don't know what else they might be having. If they can find a working car, they can find _anything._"

"And so can we," Nate replied, his voice slow and reassuring as always, "But we need to start looking for that. We need to start hunting in a pack, like the wolves we were taught to follow all our childhood."

There was much staring, much looking for a way to react but again, nothing came out if it, and soon they were walking down the road, looking at random buildings.

"Should we check this?" Nereus asked.

"Nah, sure nobody's entered this."

"How can you say that?"

"I… just know."

The thing was that Nate didn't really know how he was so sure. He just was, and he didn't want to say anything more on it. They moved from one building to another, passed by some parks, an amusement park, a car showroom that soured their moods immediately.

"I will burn down all those cars," Nereus muttered furiously.

_Or we can use them_, Nate thought, but before he could actually bring it up the group had moved on.

And then, he stopped. It was not a big clue, but it was clue enough to know they were close to some tributes.

"What happened?" Basileus asked as he realised Nate wasn't following them.

The boy from Two looked at his allies, then shifted his gaze down to the pavement, and others followed him. There they saw extremely yellow banana peelings, lots of them, thrown casually in a dustbin.

"Somebody was here?" Jupiter wondered.

"Somebody is probably still here," Nate said, his lips pursed. Looking at the amount of peelings, he was sure it was an alliance and not an individual, and a big alliance at that too.

He was confident it was the other big alliance, Lyanna's alliance. Nate smiled.

"Napoleon?"

"I think we should do a quick search of this building."

"You're right."

"What I don't get is," Basil said as they started towards the lobby, "What kind of person throws trash in dustbins in an _arena_?"

The boys laughed at that and they entered the building, before covering their eyes as something blinded them. Nate groaned in agony even as others cursed aloud. Nate mentally prepared himself to look at this monstrosity, and when his eyes flickered open. He realised it was some red walls shining so brightly that he would cry tears of blood. Jupiter pointed at a lift but Nate shook his head.

"Stairs. Take the stairs."

So they went towards the staircase to the left hand side, the weird frown emoticon on the door bothering Napoleon more than it should have, but he pushed through.

And soon they were in the corridor, a very long one at that. And he also saw that he was correct all this while.

Standing in front of a door were Josephine, Avni and Rook. The two groups saw each other, and for a moment neither said anything. And then Jupiter nocked his bow and took aim.

"Cairn! Lyanna!" Rook cried out.

And Jupiter let his arrow fly.

Josephine leaped aside gracefully, and the arrow stuck in the door. Avni wrenched it out. Nate noticed that his district partner did not have her sword, and a smile crept on his face like that of a predator, and the group started walking amicably towards them, and he saw their colour drain from their faces as the Careers approached. Lyanna and Cairn came out through the door, looking panicked, and then the late comers saw them. Napoleon waved at Lyanna, winking at her, and she fumed in response.

"Lyanna, my sword," Josephine said, forwarding her hand. The girl from Twelve's face paled completely at that and she gasped.

"It's back in the flat…"

"WHAT?!"

Nate had never seen Josephine look so distressed. She looked so furious that he was almost sure that she'd kill Lyanna herself. Instead, she yanked a knife out of Cairn's hands for there was no time to go in and get her weapon.

And then they charged.

Nate thought that it would have been wiser if they had backtracked down the other staircase, but he wasn't going to complain. Rook and Avni clashed against Basileus, each of them having a knife, whereas Josephine attacked Jupiter and Cairn was against Nereus. Nate glanced at his own sword with a smile and charged Lyanna.

She was swift and strong, he'd give her that. She managed to avoid most of his attacks. He pounced on her, but she rolled out of the way and pulled out something from her jacket, and hurled it towards Nate. The boy from Two easily dodged it, for agility was his biggest strength, and he slashed at her again, leaving a gash in her arm.

"Aah!" the girl screamed and Nate attacked again. She dodged it, wincing in pain, but threw another star at him, which he deflected with his sword. He kicked out and his leg connected to her stomach, and she gasped as her breath exploded. Lyanna was holding her stomach tightly even as he ambled towards her.

"I think it's time-"

_THUD!_

Both Napoleon and Lyanna looked around to see what had happened. Nate cried out as a cannon exploded, and he was so shocked that he almost dropped his sword.

Cairn was there, standing over Nereus' body, a big piece of frozen lamb in his hand coloured in blood. Nate had no idea how he got it or where he was carrying it, but he had just killed Nereus with a stupid frozen lamb! He had read somewhere that a big chunk of ice was strong, but this strong?!

"Hahahaha!"

Nate was, if he was being honest to himself, scared of Cairn right now. The boy was laughing, throwing his head back and holding the frozen lamb, which simply refused to thaw, like a club. He pointed it towards him.

"You're next."

Napoleon pursed his lips and got ready.

And soon he was fighting two of them. He once hit Cairn and left a nice slash on his back, but the boy did not drop that stupid piece of ice no matter what. And it was an effective weapon, as Nate had already seen. All his efforts were directed at dodging attacks, because both the meat and the stars were lethal. Thankfully, Lyanna ran out of the latter.

And Napoleon charged again, fully expecting Cairn to attack, but the other boy did something completely unexpected.

He pushed Lyanna through the flat door and locked it after himself.

"Come out and fight!" Nate yelled out, panting just a bit. Poor Nereus… How could this happen? Nate banged at the door but it was clear that those two weren't coming out, so he simply locked the door from outside.

"Rot in there," he muttered and turned around to observe the others.

Things were… not going well. Jupiter fired an arrow at Josephine and she threw her knife at him. Neither weapon hit but now Jupiter was with a knife and Josephine was with an arrow. The two charged at each other, screaming as if giving a war cry, and Napoleon watched as Josephine stabbed Jupiter in his throat with the arrow while his knife missed her narrowly. Josephine yanked it out of his hand and slashed his neck, the cannon exploding.

And Nate… he crept up on her and brought down his sword at the back of her neck. She cried out as blood oozed out of her wound and Nate pulled out his sword again, making her cry aloud.

"You- you coward…!"

And that was the last thing she ever uttered.

Her words were going to echo in her mind for a long time, and he shut his eyes momentarily. He probably shouldn't have killed his District Partner, but now nothing could be changed. He knew in his heart too that he wouldn't really change it because he had taken down one of the strongest competitors.

He turned his gaze to look at Basil, who was kicked between the legs by Avni right then and he yelped.

"Run!" Rook shouted and the two started running towards the staircase. Basil followed them, and Nate threw Josephine's knife at them. Avni pushed Rook hard and the knife missed.

They were near the lift now and Avni pushed the buttons to call it. Basil literally dived at the pair, who scattered at the move. Napoleon watched as the elevator opened, and before anyone could do anything, Avni pushed Rook into it.

"GO!" she screamed and started off towards the stairs. Rook protested her action, but when he saw Napoleon running towards him with his sword to impale him, Rook shut the door and the lift was gone.

Nate came to a stop, having missed that brat, but he was startled at a loud painful cry. He ran down the stairs when he saw on the landing that Basil had Avni in the heart and she was bleeding, bleeding profusely, to her death.

"Avni!" Rook's voice seemed to be coming from the ground floor.

The dying girl mustered all her strength as she bled and bellowed, "GOOOOOO!"

And Nate ran down the stairs, ignoring her and Basil, to catch the other boy. He was close, he wasn't going to let him go. He was so close to this kill… Other than Basileus and himself, all the Careers were dead. He had to win now, he had to at any cost.

The boy was gone when he reached the lobby, and he had disappeared from sight when he looked out in the street. Just then, the cannon exploded.

Napoleon closed his eyes in exhaustion and allowed himself to sink on the road and breathe. This had been a big day. A day that would be a game changer. His only ally was Basileus now. He recalled that Lyanna and Cairn were still locked up in that flat and he sighed at that. Two more people had to be taken care of tight now. He would ask Basil to tag along though for who knew what other stuff Cairn had for weapons?

He threw back his head and looked, the sunlight washing over him warmly, but he felt cold. In all honesty, he hadn't really thought he could win this despite his incredibly high score in the private sessions. Right now, however, he felt unstoppable.

After all Basileus Paladino was the only one who could beat him now, and he wouldn't because they could win together. He wiped some blood from his face, he didn't know whose it was and he didn't care. He was smiling now, smiling lightly at the sky.

Victory was close.

* * *

**Eulogies:**

**15th- Nereus Naga (killed by Cairn Rochester): I'm sure this was surprising. Nereus was an amazing character, he was this sweet guy who helped and trusted everyone but he turned into this bitter boy who was exposed to cruelties of the world. I loved writing Nereus and while I understand that his development was more negative, I hope it was still good enough. Rest in peace Nereus, you'll be missed.**

**14th- Jupiter Aeneas (killed by Josephine Marcellus): All the readers hated him lol, although that wasn't why he went. I think Jupiter was a great character, and I enjoyed writing him. Where everyone wants to be a hero, he was a villain and a great one at it. I just saw him being killed by Josephine and that's why this is how it went. Rest in peace Jupiter, I'll miss you.**

**13th- Josephine Marcellus (killed by Napoleon Walter): Okay, I know this was unexpected! Josephine was brilliant and a Career that all of us loved and could root for. She was an ethical Career in a true sense and she was a fantastic character. It was hard to write her end, but I'd already decided that, whenever the two alliances would clash, she'd go. Josephine, rest in peace, you're going to be missed.**

**12th- Avni Silvan (killed by Basileus Paladino): While everyone knew she was going to go one way or the other, I think most people were still rooting for her. She was an amazing character, a favourite of majority of the readers, and she was so fun to write. She ultimately managed to save Rook just as she'd promised herself. Rest in peace kiddo, you were awesome.**

**Yeah… I know. Almost all the Careers are gone lol. This was why the Anti Careers were having a good time till now and didn't have any action. We're down to two Careers: Napoleon and Basileus. Did you expect this to happen? **

**I had lost the last two POVs so I'd had to rewrite them. I'm sorry if the writing is bad in them. **

**Alliances:**

**Killers? Killers: Napoleon, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**This Was Bound To Happen: Kai, Dakota**

**Sisters: Cat, Nell**

**Napoleon Is After Us: Lyanna, Cairn**

**Loner: Rook**

**PS: We finally got a loner.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Day Four**

* * *

**Rook Karis, 16**

**District Three Male**

* * *

He couldn't believe he'd left her behind.

Rook was in the lift, panting hard, a soft violin music playing that just annoyed him. He wondered whether Avni got away from the two boys. His eyes pricked with tears and exhaustion. Surely, she'd be awaiting him in the lobby.

The lift came to a stop with a _Ding_ sound and the doors slid open, Rook walking through them into the dazzling lobby.

He gulped when he saw she wasn't there. Where was she? Nobody was present there…

"Avni!" he called out.

And then a most heart wrenching scream reached him, her voice painful and tired letting out, "GOOOOOO!"

Rook let out a shaky breath, and he was shivering now. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be… He was about to take off to the stairs for he wanted to see her one last time, but then he heard footsteps climbing down the stairs, very urgent footsteps.

Rook acted impulsively. He dived back into the lift he'd come out from and hastily pushed the button for the top floor, the eleventh storey. As the door slid shut he could hear somebody reach the lobby and he hoped nobody would notice his lift going up. He could have run out of the building but somewhere he knew that would be suicidal for he could never outrun those monsters.

As the violin played in the background, Rook cried. He sank to the carpeted floor and wept, his body trembling in grief. He shoved his fist in his mouth to stop the sound of his wailing, for he had no control on himself to stop it in any other way. Tears trickled down his cheeks till his vision blurred. He left her alone… he left her to die…

When the lift stopped, it was a task to get his body to stand and move out. He staggered to the staircase and ran up to the roof, its walls low and floor made of slippery marble that forced him to slow down.

The cannon exploded.

That sound was like a knife through his heart. He came to a halt, his breath laboured, and he licked his lips. He clenched his fists tightly as he remembered that she sacrificed herself for _him, _and his nails dug into his skin, drawing warm blood.

He dragged himself to a wall forcefully, panting hard, and looked over it down at the pavement.

Napoleon was sitting there, catching his breath. Rook was right, had he run out on the road he would have been caught immediately. Seeing him there, all relaxed, boiled Rook's blood to no end. He wanted to destroy him, tear him apart, him and his accomplice. He didn't know who killed Avni and he didn't care. He hated them both.

Rook watched as Napoleon just sat there a bit. Then he stood up and stretched even as Basileus came out.

The two Careers talked a bit but Rook couldn't hear them. There was some kind of agreement. Then Napoleon headed inside while Basileus stood at the gate, as if on a lookout.

Rook wondered why they'd done so before recalling that Cairn and Lyanna were locked up in that flat. The thought of it enraged him again. Had those two not decided to hide all four of them could have come out alive. If that stupid Lyanna had not forgotten Josephine's sword, most likely she'd be alive too.

Rook knew there was no chance of him allying with those two even if all three of them survived. They weren't reliable and he wasn't going to let Avni's sacrifice be in vain.

Rook moved to the other side of the roof, the one near the opposite end of the gate, and saw, to his surprise, two people hanging from a rope from the first floor. He was so angry to see the Twelve pair that he was almost tempted to scream that they were getting away. That rope wasn't a rope, it was made out of bed sheets. Lyanna was carrying the backpack and Josephine's sword, the sword whose absence led to their doom, and Cairn had a… jute bag? Rook wondered what was in it. Why would he carry a jute bag?

He saw them reach the ground and sneak out onto the road on the opposite side, away from the Careers. Even if they were to catch them, Basil would have to move around the entire building and Napoleon would have to jump out of the window.

Cairn and Lyanna had escaped while he just watched.

Rook's heart was racing now. All he had was a knife, more of a mini sickle, and no resources. He did not have the courage to check the other flats. Plus, he alone did not have the strength to open their doors. He waited on the roof… and he waited… and waited. Exhausted, he went back to the side the gate was and peeped down. Basileus seemed to be getting restless too as he paced the ground. Rook watched him keenly, when the gate flew open and Napoleon came out running.

"They're ...where!" he cried out. Rook couldn't hear the word, but he assumed it was 'nowhere'.

"Looked every… ….sign of …!"

Basil looked surprised at this. He said something to Napoleon, who just looked astounded. Finally, the two decided that staying there was not fruitful anymore, and they started walking away. Rook watched them go, his blood boiling with each second even as relief discreetly washed over him. Soon, they'd disappeared from sight.

Rook let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Slowly he went back inside and started climbing down the stairs. He had no desire to use the lift, he couldn't tolerate that violin once more. His legs hurt as he descended, the full enormity of all the events hitting him hard at once. Jupiter and Nereus were down. But so was Josephine, poor Josephine. That brave girl. District Twelve had left. He was all alone because Avni… she was gone.

He didn't know how many steps he'd ran down but he came to an abrupt halt as he gasped. Fresh tears started flowing down his cheeks and he staggered over and fell on his knees on the landing.

"No…" he whispered as he saw her corpse. Her chest was completely bloody and Rook's lower lip quivered. He pulled her body towards himself and hugged her, hugged her tightly and cried, cried without bothering about the noise he was making.

"I-I-I'm sorry… I-I…"

She had stood up for him back at the training centre. She saved his life. And what had he done? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

"Th-thank you. Thank… you."

He held her to his chest and cried, his sobs silent now. He wasn't going to let this all go in vain. He was going to win. He would do anything and everything in his power to win now. There were nine more to go…

"I'll win," he whispered, "I'll win and I know you're with me."

* * *

**Night Four**

* * *

**Akira Tuktuk, 16**

**District Six Female**

* * *

Akira felt empty.

She could believe she had killed two people. Yes, she'd been a golddigger all her life, she'd cheated and fooled people for money, she was a petty thief. She used to be a lot of things but not a murderer. And now, even that was added to the list.

She was torn. On one hand there was relief that she was alive and now that she'd done it twice, she could do it a third time. On the other hand she was horrified. She had wiped out two people from existence… two people she didn't even know. Sure, it was self defense but that did not make it easier. What right did she have to take someone's life?

She remained silent the whole time since then unless Aron talked to her. And he didn't do much of that. They had driven around the whole arena, Akira was sure of it, until they found a vending machine that had packets of chips. They stopped the car and walked over to it. After Aron tore it open, he first offered it to her.

"No thanks," she muttered, "I don't feel like eating."

Perhaps she'd expected Aron to talk her into eating, because she was surprised when he simply shrugged and started eating, finishing the packet in a few minutes. Akira hadn't even noticed she'd been gawking at him the whole while until he raised his brows.

"What?"

"Ugh! Nothing!"

And Aron, that stupid boy, took out another packet and started eating. Halfway through the packet, he offered it again.

"Stop staring and just eat."

She fumed at him as he rightfully accused her of staring, but hunger win over astonishment, guilt and relief that she'd felt after she'd heard four more cannons that day. She snatched the packet from him and devoured it in a couple of minutes and sighed.

"Let's go," she said. Aron grabbed a couple of packets more and followed after her, sliding into the driver's seat with Akira beside him.

Akira leaned against the door as Aron set off. Ever since they'd finished off two Careers, Aron had been very keen on not only keeping but also driving the car. He had driven almost the entire time, and Akira had taken over only when he'd been exhausted and she'd had to yell in his ear continuously for him to make him let her do it.

Now though, they were moving forward at a fairly slow speed, and Akira was lost in thought. Was the arena really going to be so good to them? Would they get to keep the car throughout the Games? There were only eleven of them left. Could they really hide in a fancy car all the while?

"What do you think?"

"Hmm?"

Akira heard him but didn't quite register the words. She was still thinking about how attached she felt to this car. It had saved her so many times. And yet she felt repulsed, because this car had made her a murderer, even if that was for self defense.

"Akira!"

"Oh right, sorry," she said, snapping out of her thoughts.

Aron looked at her with a frown. He opened his mouth to say something, and looking into his eyes she felt that those would be words of concern the way he'd uttered back in the Capitol, but he couldn't bring himself to do it again and shut his mouth.

"Are you _thirsty_?"

Akira very well knew that he meant to ask 'Are you okay?' but that would sound too nice from him and he changed the word. Akira couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I'm alright," she said, "Not thirsty."

"Right."

Aron straightened in his seat and asked, his eyes right at the road in front of him, "Who do you think they were?"

"No idea," Akira replied honestly. She had absolutely no idea who was gone. Most likely there had either been a bloody confrontation or a deadly mutt and she kind of hoped it was the former. She wondered who had clashed if it was, and whether there were any Careers involved… or gone. The anthem hadn't started yet, and she didn't know if she wanted to see their faces, whoever they were.

"I hope it's the Careers," Aron muttered, "It'll honestly make it easier to get out alive."

"Yeah," Akira murmured softly.

They went silent again and drove on. Aron kept on increasing the speed and Akira frowned. They were literally racing now, and she heard Aron fidget beside her. She opened her eyes and turned to him.

"Aron?"

"This can't be happening. This can't…"

The speed kept on rising and Akira was scared now. Aron's knuckles had turned white now as he tried his best to control the car, hands moving the steering wheel, and Akira screamed as they narrowly avoided crashing into a wall.

"Aron!"

"The brakes have failed."

"WHAT?!"

This couldn't be happening… how…? The car had been absolutely fine! It made no sense!

"I-I don't-"

For the first time since she's seen him, Aron was panicking. All his efforts and attention were concentrated on not crashing and dying.

"Aron, we need to get out."

"I know-!"

"It's not just the brakes!"

"Akira, we can't jump out now. We'll be seriously injured or even die!"

"We'll have to!"

And Akira threw open the door of the car on her side. It was moving really fast, and she was afraid of what would happen if she jumped.

Aron had somehow managed to control the vehicle but now he was moving towards a construction site, a heap of sand right there.

"Drive into that!" Akira cried out.

Aron didn't bother arguing. He swerved the car and it raced towards the heap of sand. Aron opened the door on his side and the wind slapped against their faces, sand blowing into them blinding them right then, but Akira held on.

"Jump as soon as it hits the sand!"

Aron didn't need to be told twice. The car slowed down considerably as it hit the pile and the children dived out. Akira landed on the ground and rolled away as far and as fast as she could, her body hurting from the impact, her knees and elbows bleeding, her face scarred. The car, now empty, kept going into the heap even as Akira shouted, "Aron get away!"

Luckily he did. He was injured himself, but he managed to throw himself far away from the car. Akira watched in horror as the car, their most valuable weapon, exploded into a ball of fire, the sound thundering across the silent arena, the heat threatening to melt her even from a distance. She couldn't believe this had happened. She'd been in that car and it simply blew up!

"Akira!" Aron called out.

"Here!"

She forced herself to drag her body forward, wincing in agony at having to move. Aron too was approaching her, the colour drained from his face, his eyes wide in bewilderment.

"How…?" she managed.

"It must have been programmed that way," Aron whispered hoarsely, "The brakes, they must have been made to fail after the car has covered a certain distance. And there must have been a bomb…"

He swallowed.

"We were riding on a bomb…"

That was too hard to believe. Akira couldn't believe her own stupidity. After all, she'd been the one who'd insisted on using the car. And now they were both injured.

"Let's go," Aron said, watching the huge fire, "Other tributes will be here soon."

Akira took a last look at the fireball and nodded. Together, they scurried away as fast as they could, unable to believe they survived that blast.

* * *

**Kai Jung, 18**

**District Nine Male**

* * *

Kai was finding it hard to believe that they were already in top eleven.

They'd had a fairly decent time till now, other than the Cafe Horseboy thing, and he was glad about it. However, he avoided cafes and restaurants right now and stuck to vending machines, having learnt his lesson the hard way.

They were in an abandoned park right now, sitting on a wooden bench, the cool wind helping dry the sweat from the day. Dakota was lying on the bench, her head on his lap, sleeping. She'd just been sitting earlier and then she suddenly fell down on his lap and started snoring, startling Kai. He didn't remove her head though, and sat there uncomfortably, not wanting to disturb her sleep.

Kai didn't get why he was behaving this way. Back at home, he would've pushed her off onto the ground. However, right now he cared, he cared about her and that was a terrifying thought. No matter what though, he couldn't bring himself to push her off. Plus, she looked at peace when she slept, her face relaxed, and she looked nice when she was feeling chilled out.

He stroked her head a couple of times absently, trying hard not to shift in his place lest he woke her. He leaned back a bit and sighed.

The anthem had played just a while back, right after Dakota fell asleep, and kept sleeping through it. Kai had seen those who'd died and he wouldn't say he was upset. Those people were, after all, some of the biggest hurdles on his path to home. He missed home. He had thought he'd miss his lifestyle the most, but he'd been wrong. While he wished he had the comforts he enjoyed back in Nine, he thought often of his family and his work. Had they replaced him? Kai snorted. Of course they hadn't, Kai was irreplaceable and he was a scary _and _handsome skeleton; they wouldn't find another like him.

But… But what if he didn't survive? That was certainly a possibility. He didn't want to admit it because he was awesome, but people here could be monstrous. And since he was so amazing, there was a big chance they'd attack him.

The thought made him shudder physically. He let out a sigh, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He stared at the stars above, uncountable and twinkling. He bit his lower lip. As a kid, he always said he was a star on earth, his glow unparalleled, his aura of utmost attraction. He wasn't so sure anymore. While he did believe in himself, he didn't know how him being a star on earth would help his chances. But that thought was for later.

He yawned aloud, feeling exhausted. Then he remembered Dakota was still sleeping so he tried to lower his voice for the next yawn… And then the next. Maybe he needed a nap too, he decided. He shifted a little to ease the stiffness in his body. The movement, however, was enough to wake her up.

"Wha?"

She sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes with her fists, looking half dazed and yawning very widely.

"Slept well?"

"Yeah. Thanks man. Reminded me of home."

"Home?" Kai asked, surprised, "You slept on people's laps?"

Dakota laughed at his question, her voice still sleepy, and while he wanted to get irritated at her for chuckling, her sleepy voice made him drowsy instead. He yawned widely as her head drooped a bit.

"Yeah well, my sister. We often didn't have pillows at home. So she used to sleep in my lap when she was little. Sometimes even now," she yawned again, "Always left my legs stiff but totally worth it."

Kai however, didn't hear her completely. He froze at her words and turned to her, confusion on his face.

"You didn't have pillows?" he asked.

"Hell no," Dakota replied, her voice still drowsy as she yawned, "Those things are _expensive. _How were we supposed to get them? It was a task to even arrange for food…"

Her voice faltered as she said that, her eyes widening as if she just realised what she'd said. Dakota closed her mouth, her whole frame tensed, and she looked at Kai.

And Kai… he was trembling. Trembling hard as he sat on the bench, staring at the grass on the ground. He was not shivering from cold; it was all due to fury, justified fury.

How _could _she?! He trusted her with everything. He told her every single thing about himself! And she kept such a big thing a secret from him?! She knew how much he despised poor people for their laziness and lies, she knew how much he valued hard work and a non-complaining attitude, neither of which the poor had. And she still lied…? She could have told him, she could have been honest with him, and he might have had an example of _one _good poor person. But she ruined that, she proved that he was right about her kind. He had always been right about the proletariat.

Dakota had betrayed him.

"Kai-"

"No," he said, keeping his voice level and trying hard not to shout at her, "No."

"Just listen to me-"

"There's nothing left to listen to. You've lied to me and betrayed my trust."

"Kai-!"

"I'm done here," he said, standing up. He was not sleepy anymore, his brain very much awake, cursing him for being so stupid as to fall for her deceit. "Goodbye."

"Kai wait-"

"Keep the bag," he muttered, keeping himself from growling, "That's what people like you want anyway, don't you? That people who have earned their resources sacrifice them for you? Give them away for free?"

"Kai, that's enough."

"Keep the bag," he repeated, pretending to not have heard her, and he stalked off. Dakota ran after him, calling out his name, her voice edgy. Another tactic to deceive him but he was not being fooled again.

She grabbed his elbow as she yelled, "Wait!"

All this action did was to enrage him even further. He shoved her hard, so hard that she fell on the ground, and he huffed and stormed out of the park, her anguished pleas falling on deaf ears.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Kai's views about the poor are his. Neither the submitter nor I share his views. We don't intend any disrespect.**

* * *

**Yeah, this is a short chapter, but I wrote the whole thing on my phone and half of it was done at around 3 AM, so excuse the writing. **

**Next chapter, we'll see what's happening in the Capitol. I know you all want to hear from Twelve, and we'll see them soon. Chronologically, it will be around the same time as events of this chapter. **

**My friend jms2 has a SYOT open right now titled "The 175th Hunger Games: When Siblings turn into Murderers SYOT". Kindly take a look at it and please submit if you can! **

**Alliances:**

**Killers? Killers: Napoleon, Basileus**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**Sisters: Cat, Nell**

**Of Sword And Kerosene: Lyanna, Cairn**

**Loners: Rook, Kai, Dakota **


	30. Chapter 30

**The Capitol**

* * *

**Natakunda Nasiche, 28**

* * *

She couldn't believe she had been brown in the prison just a few days ago.

She cursed the day she had set foot in this country. Buganda's Peace Ambassador to Panem, right. It was a joke, but she was crying. Natakunda had never felt so helpless in her whole life. She had survived some rough things back home, worked hard to make her country a better place, and lived her dream of being a model. And now she was here, rotting in this hell.

She didn't know what her prison mate was going through or how she managed to remain so stoic. Her body was so bruised that it was hard to find even an inch of unharmed skin on her being. Her beautiful face was so swollen. There was pain in her eyes, but Ingrid Michalina refused to complain about anything that had happened to her. Natakunda had seen with her eyes what that monster did to her, the torture and humiliation that no human should go through, but Ingrid never gave him the satisfaction of seeing her shatter.

"What do they want from us?" Natakunda asked, her voice grieved, as she tried to tend to Ingrid's wounds with whatever she had, which was just some water. The younger girl resisted earlier, but she let her do it now.

"Nothing," Ingrid replied, "Nothing at all."

"There has to be a reason…"

"He wants to take over the country, and the whole world. The Five have already annexed my country, executed my family, and imprisoned me here. It's Panem's turn now."

"He? The others are not interested?"

"Not really. They're looking for their sister, and they'll leave after they find her. But he manages to convince them every time that they need to keep other nations enslaved."

"Don't they realise they're being played?!"

"How will they? None of them visits the prison, except him. They have no idea what's going on."

"But… how?"

"Blind trust."

Natakunda could sense the bitterness in Ingrid's voice. She didn't want to even imagine having her entire family getting killed, the mere thought made her shudder, and her eyes turned bleaked.

"We need to make a plan. To get away."

Ingrid laughed mirthlessly at that, her agonised eyes looking into Natakunda's dark ones. The older woman almost turned away, the gaze was of such intensity, but she looked on. Ingrid sighed.

"We're chained here Nata," she finally whispered, "We have nothing to break these chains with. Plus, as you;ve already seen, when you tamper with the locks, you'll get a shock."

"There has to be a way!"

"I'm afraid not."

Natakunda was about to argue, to tell Ingrid to snap out of it, but then she stopped. She was dejected, because she was aware Ingrid was right. Their case was hopeless. She curled her fists in rage and wanted to scream, but found it extremely difficult to perform even this simple function.

And then they both stopped moving.

Somebody was tampering with the locks of the prison door. Ingrid stared at it fearfully, her chest heaving, and she started looking around frantically to cover herself with. Natakunda tossed her a worn out blanket, the only thing one that they had between the two of them, and she curled it around herself tightly as if her life depended on it. This made Natakunda's blood boil in fury. Nobody, _nobody_ deserved to face this!

The two women waited for the door to open, and Natakunda took Ingrid's hand when it finally swung inwards. But instead of their captor, they saw another woman, her hair tied in a ponytail, a stony expression on her face. She looked around hastily, unsure, then quickly stepped in.

And there, in a moment, she had freed them both from their chains.

"Who are you?" Natakunda asked, her mind unable to process the events. Ingrid tried to stand up, but her legs gave way and she fell down on her knees. The older girl helped her friend up and then turned to the newcomer.

"Put these on," she said, ignoring her question, "I've the orders to get you both out of here."

"Orders? Orders from whom?"

"We can talk on the way-"

"How can we trust you?"

"Okay then, just rot here."

"Wait!" Ingrid called out, panting hard, the effort of even standing up draining her body of all her energy, "Lisa, you're here?"

"Yes, you Highness," the girl said, "My emperor has asked us to help the immigrant prisoners get away."

"How will you manage by yourself?"

"Oh," Lisa smiled, "We have a whole team for that. We're going to take you away to Filipinas."

The next few moments were a blur for Natakunda. They had walked out, literally walked out, from the prison. There were guards everywhere, but they did nothing, as if the three of them didn't even exist. Natakunda saw that there were others too, prisoners who were so broken they couldn't even move, but they were being helped, one person for two to three prisoners. Their dark clothes made them harder to spot in the extremely dim lighting, and soon Lisa was leading them down a tunnel and then they were just led to something like a safehouse, all the while not going out into the open.

"How?"

"We'll move you tomorrow to the ship," Lisa said, "And you'll be leaving then."

"But how?"

Lisa grinned at Natakunda, but there was no warmth in it. She looked a little crazy, and that was scaring her. Lisa gestured at the two to sit down on. Natakunda noticed that there were five beds there, along with a tap and glasses and a box of food. It wasn't much and had been made in haste, but after that hell, she was delighted to be in a place where they wouldn't be bound by chains.

"We've made arrangements, most of the other countries, to escort immigrants from here."

"Wait, so there are more countries involved?"

"Indeed. We're trying to get as many immigrants away from here as we can within a week. We can't wait any longer."

"What's going to happen after a week?" Ingrid asked, even as Lisa poured them out glasses of water.

"Well… the other countries have decided that the Five are a big nuisance. They have a big military back in Europia and they can beat a lot of these nations. However, right now their army is busy with controlling the uprising in the annexed areas of Europia, and the Five are not as strong here as they could be."

"They're _not_ strong?!" Natakunda exclaimed.

"They're honestly not. Why do you think they restarted the Games? They wanted a distraction and a method to scare the people here, to look powerful."

A light smile tugged on Ingrid's lips as she looked at Lisa, probably realising where this was going.

"So… the other countries are about to declare war?"

"You can say that," Lisa said, "And if they start losing, they're going to bomb Panem."

"What?!"

"Yeah. They believe that is the only way to save the world from the Five."

"But what about the Panemians?!" Natakunda cried out, "They're innocent! For years and years they have gone through hell, only to be blasted into dust?!"

"We can't do anything about that," Lisa said, "If we try to save them all, the Five will find out what's happening and then nobody will make it out."

"We can't just let them die!"

"I don't think it'll come to that," Lisa replied, although it sounded like a lie, "I mean, the world's army is against the small unit that the Five have here. Russia will be engaging with Europia along with the other countries they have annexed. They stand no chance."

"You don't sound convinced."

"You can never be too sure."

Lisa sighed, her shoulder slumped as she got up.

"Take care girls. However, before leaving… I want to know who captured you."

"The Five," Natakunda replied, "They captured all of us."

Lisa didn't look satisfied with the answer and turned to Ingrid, who looked back fiercely, as months of trauma and torture rushed into her memories.

"Who is it, Ingrid?"

Ingrid sighed and let out a weak, "It's Joffery, Lisa. It's Joffery."

* * *

**Everleigh Marshall, 20**

* * *

I sat down on the empty chair in my bunker, letting my face fall in my hands. This was the ninth bunker we had shifted to, because the previous eight had all been found out. Star was injured even, her leg broken, and no matter how much the three of us tried to heal it, it just wasn't working. I could get her admitted to a hospital, but Star had been famous, and the Five had reportedly killed all famous people. I couldn't risk her life.

At that moment, however, I was broken for a different reason. I had worked with Lisa to make those mutts… that weren't even mutts. I'd brainstormed and prepared some of those buildings, with those strange drugs being pumped in, because Lisa had not wanted me to use 'regular mutts'. And now, now I had blood on my hands.

I sobbed once but stopped myself. I saw Yunous feeding Star some soup so that she didn't have to put too much effort into getting up, and Rohan was just pacing the floor. I kind of felt sorry for the two men. They were caught in a fight that just wasn't theirs and I tried to imagine how frustrated they'd be. Rohan sometimes showed his annoyance, but not Yunous, not at all. He was always calm and collected, always sure of himself, and that kind of bothered me. How could one be _so _cool in crisis?

He stepped away from Star after she'd finished eating and went to wash the bowl although I saw no point of it. We'd have to leave soon anyway. I took a shaky breath and walked over to Star, smiling at her as I took her hand.

"You look worried," she said.

"I am," I sighed, looking away from him and absently watching Rohan pace in agitation, "I can't believe I helped in killing children."

"You had to, Everleigh. You needed to get closer to the Five."

"And I failed miserably at that," I replied, the helplessness of the situation maddening me, "I tried so hard to at least interact with them but that Lisa just didn't let me even get close! I didn't even see all of them! I go to the Games centre every day and I know absolutely nothing!"

"You do know stuff Everleigh," Star said kindly, "You know they're looking for a girl, their sister. You also found out that their sister is in Panem!"

"And that's just bizarre," I added, "How can the girl be here? We've nothing to do with Europia!"

"Maybe the child thief ran away with the kid and came back here?"

"I don't know," I sighed, "I just know that they're going to check everyone's DNA here to see if they are the one."

"You'll have to get tested?" Rohan asked as he stopped walking, sitting down cross legged on the floor beside me. I nodded slowly even as the frown deepened on his face. Ever since I'd told them about the sister business, Rohan and Younus had had some kind of silent communication with each other just by sharing a glance, as if they wanted to ask Star and I about something but were hesitant. I had reminded them both that they could say anything to us and we'd answer to the best of our ability, but neither said a word, frustrating me even more with their shared looks, slight nods and being able to read each other all the time.

"Everleigh, Star," he started, clearing his throat, "Yunous and I think, we think you two should really come with us. We can get away. We can all lead normal lives."

Star sighed and shut her eyes. I was honestly tired of this argument. Why could neither of the men see that we were not interested in leaving our country behind? This was our home, all we'd ever known. How could we leave our home behind? Yunous and Rohan just didn't seem to get it at all.

"I'm not interested. I've a crisis here to deal with."

"And what are you going to do about the crisis?!" he snapped back at me, "Can't you see that we won't survive much longer? Can't you see that they're hunting down everyone?!"

"I can't go!" I shouted at him as we both got to our feet, "Why don't you get it?! I've spent my life fighting for our freedom! And I'd just stop now?"

"Your best bet is that the Five find their sister and leave within a week!"

I was about to retort when I realised that he'd said something he'd not wanted to. He tried to not show it, but he looked as if he regretted saying those words.

"What's going to happen after a week?" Star asked, crouching up on her elbows.

Rohan paled as he looked at her and then back at me. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to assure himself rather than us.

"Nothing," he replied, "Just the way, you know, things are happening. I don't know whether we'll survive another week."

"You're lying," I spat, "Rohan, I'm asking again. What's going to happen in a week?"

"The other countries are going to declare war on the Five while they're here," Yunous spoke up nonchalantly, "And since the Five are in charge of Panem, the country will be involved as well."

"What?!" Star and I cried out at once.

This couldn't be happening… my home, a war zone? I'd only read about countries being at war and the things I'd read were terrible. Was Panem really going to be fighting other countries?! We were such a fragile nation… did we even stand a chance?!

"I know it's hard to believe and accept. But we need to get away before that happens."

I looked at him incredulously. Did he really believe I was going to ditch my home during a _war_?!

"You both should go," I said and I meant it, "This is not your home. You should go back, to your families, to your homes."

"We'll stay if you guys do," Yunous sighed, dropping down onto an empty chair, holding his head, "But at least do consider our offer with a cool head. That's all I ask."

"How do you guys have this information?" Star asked.

I frowned. It was pretty strange that they both knew this would happen and they'd not bothered to tell us. I wondered why that was and how they knew such a thing was about to happen.

"We got a message," Rohan muttered, "From home."

"So why don't you two leave?"

"We can't leave you two here all alone," Yunous muttered, his thumb slowly massaging his eyebrows, "We've been together through so much. I- we can't throw that away."

I smiled at him.

"And that's exactly why we can't leave either."

"Let's smash the Five!" Star cheered.

"Yeah!"

I saw Yunous and Rohan looking at each other again. The former looked defeated whereas the latter looked quite angry. In fact, he literally walked away from us on the pretext of using the bathroom, not meeting our eyes, and Yunous had turned away as well, even though he was smiling.

Well, maybe things were a lot deeper than they appeared to be…

* * *

**Panem is in trouble! I loved writing this chapter so much! I'd love to know what you guys thought of everything that happened here. Did the other countries' action surprise you? And had you expected Ingrid's captor to be who he is? **

**Next chapter, we'll get back into the arena and hear from our favourite kids. Till then, stay safe and take care.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Night Four**

* * *

**Basileus Paladino, 18**

**District Eleven Male**

* * *

Basileus was kind of afraid of Napoleon, even though he wasn't going to say anything about it.

He remembered how he had run back in frantically, and had returned even more disturbed, to the point that he looked a little unhinged. He had that strange look in his eyes when he had recounted that he found nobody in the building, that District Twelve was gone.

Now, they were back at the cornucopia, helping themselves to food and water. Basil kind of felt awkward to be with Nate all alone. He didn't know whether to think of him as handsome or scary, because he managed to look both currently, with his rock like expression and stony silence.

"I can't believe they got away," Nate muttered finally, his voice kind of heavy, "How did they manage? They even raided that flat before leaving."

Basil recalled how annoyed and frustrated Nate had sounded when he had told him that they had made a rope from bed sheets and escaped from the window. The idea was quite hilariously smart to Basileus, but he did not think it would be wise to admit that to Nate, at least not now.

"We'll find them," he said half-heartedly. In all honesty, Basileus was not interested in Twelve. Sure, it would be great to take them down, but for some reason he had nothing against them in particular. He was more focussed on finding Rook and finishing him off. The little guy had dared to fight him during training, turning down his offer of an alliance and had refused to stop training with weapons even when Basileus had threatened him. He knew he shouldn't be so petty, but he couldn't really do anything about it.

"I want to get her," Nate whispered, not speaking to him in particular, "I want to show her who she's messing with."

Basil couldn't quite make sense of why Nate had an obsession with Lyanna. He obviously kind of liked her, he'd pretty much hinted at it, and now he wanted to be the one to kill her. Basil didn't get how he could like her and wished to finish her off at the same time. He didn't understand much of what Nate did anyway. There was this quiet coldness about him, a sense of subtle hypocrisy radiating from him, and Basil just disliked it. He didn't say anything but Nate bothered him a lot.

"We'll get them," he replied nonchalantly, "First thing in the morning, we'll go to hunt."

"What if something else kills her while we're slacking?" Napoleon muttered, sitting down on a swing, not quite looking at Basileus. The boy from Eleven frowned. Resting up and recovering their energy wasn't 'slacking' and he wanted to give a piece of his mind to Nate, but the other boy seemed to be paying him no attention.

"No such thing will happen," he said firmly, "We need a plan to take the others down. There are eleven of us. Nine to take care of."

As he said that, he recalled Tink and Cat, those little kids, and he felt a big lump in his throat. They reminded him so much of his little siblings, recklessly stupid but the best people ever, and they didn't deserve to die. Basil couldn't kill them, he knew that. If he did, how would he ever forgive himself or look into his siblings' eyes? He kind of hoped that they'd just die, or that Nate died and he could win with one of those kids. He didn't like Napoleon anyway, it wouldn't hurt to see him go, especially not more than to see the kids die.

"We have three children in the final eleven," Napoleon muttered, "Three. Four if you consider Dakota."

Ah yes. Basileus had forgotten about Aron, although he was sure he'd overlooked his age because of how much he disliked that brat. He was young, but not a child. Even that stupid Cairn or that Dakota were more of children than he was.

"Aron and Akira have a car," he said as if just recalling it, which was true. The day's events had made him forget about the car completely.

"I remember," Nate said, and Basileus was surprised to see him smiling lightly again, the way he used to before their encounter with the other alliance. This sudden change in expression would have relieved anyone considering that this was normal Napoleon, but it just ended up worrying Basileus, for he knew that Nate being himself was worse than him being totally worked up.

"And how do you propose we work with that?" Basil asked, his voice betraying his exasperation, which Nate seemed to have picked up, for he arched a brow at him.

"Do you _really_ think the Gamemakers will let those two have it the whole time?" Napoleon asked in rhetoric, "I believe that they've already lost the car, or will lose it soon."

"And why will they leave the car?" Basil shot back, his tone venomously sweet, even a little mocking, but the therapist from Two didn't seem to have noticed. Or maybe, Basil thought, he ignored it.

"Maybe they'll… _have_ to," Napoleon smirked and that was when Basileus noticed that the other boy wasn't looking at him at all. He was looking past him, and Basil turned around to see what had intrigued Napoleon. The boy gasped.

He could see smoke rising, some kind of a glow, not too far from there either. It was just strange to see something like that in this arena, and Basil wondered what it was. Were the Gamemakers at it again? But didn't they get enough action for a day?

"That's our calling," Nate whispered almost cheerfully, "Let's go Basileus."

* * *

**Cat Doyle, 13**

**District Three Female**

* * *

Cat was hungry and thirsty.

They'd run out of all the food and water they'd found in the bloodbath, which wasn't much to begin with. Tink had wanted to try out the vending machines, but Cat was sceptical about those. How difficult would it be to give them poisoned food and drinks? Of course, one day her resolve would break under the pressure of hunger, but today was not that day.

"We need to get water though," Tink said finally, "We can't survive without that."

Cat pursed her lips and shook her head, clapping twice.

"We do," she said, her voice strained from thirst, "But where should we look?"

"Vending machines."

"I don't know… how can we be sure about them?"

"No idea bro," Tink sighed, scratching her hair, "We need to do _something._"

"Fine, it is the vending machine then."

Cat looked around to see if there was one. The arena was confusing beyond measure, and she had no idea where she was. Cat honestly believed that they might have run a whole circle to reach the same place, because despite their differences, these buildings were strangely similar. She bit her lip as she tried to spot a vending machine, when Tink pulled at her elbow.

"There, dude," she said, pointing at a machine that was so obscurely hidden that Cat had missed it completely when she looked. The girl repeated softly, 'There dude', nodding, a soft frown on her face, and the two started towards the machine. Cat felt drained all of a sudden, as if her body did not want to get there. Perhaps, she thought, it was the dehydration from going without water for many hours. Her throat was parched, and she wrinkled her nose and tried to push her body ahead.

"I'll get it," Tink said, mostly likely seeing how drained Cat was. Cat also knew that her friend felt guilty about that hotel incident even now, when she had inhaled that strange gas and had acted in a rather strange fashion, but Cat honestly didn't think it was that big a deal to keep being embarrassed about. Still she nodded, deciding not to make a fuss, and saw Tink run towards the vending machine.

Cat sighed.

She missed Jet. it had been a haunting experience to watch him being crushed under that chandelier. The image was still vivid in her mind, and no matter how much she tried to get rid of it, it stayed right there, as if emblazoned in her soul. She had lost sleep over it, and sometimes she even sobbed because that image was haunting her even now. She was sure that Tink felt the same way, but the other girl made sure that it appeared that she was not worried at all. She even tried cracking a few jokes which certainly made Cat smile, but more so due to the effort of trying to be upbeat than the actual joke. Of course, she wasn't going to voice that in particular.

Her throat was parched and her tummy growled so loudly she was afraid the sound would attract a mutt or a tribute. She clapped hard at that and was kind of glad when she saw Tink running over to her, a small smile on her face.

"You can drink it," she said, forwarding the water bottle that was just enough empty to show somebody had taken a sip, "I tested it and it's all good. I mean, I'm not dead."

"Why did you do that?!" Cat exclaimed, horrified that her friend had taken such a risk of getting poisoned without even telling her, "What if something would have happened to you?!"

"Then at least one of us would still have a chance to get out," Tink grinned, "I owe you that much for putting you in so much trouble that other night."

"_Tink_-"

"Just drink bro."

Cat sighed, her shoulders slumping just a bit, large green eyes focused on her friend as she took a sip, the water tasting like the sweetest thing she had to her arid mouth and throat, and then she was gulping it down even as Tink drank from another bottle. In a few minutes, both the bottles were empty.

"That felt nice," Cat said.

"Heavenly," Tink added.

"Heavenly," Cat repeated softly, then spoke, "What do we do now?"

"What can we do? Except for hiding or something."

Cat could feel the strain in her voice but she couldn't really attach it to a particular emotion. Something seemed to be bothering Tink but she remained quiet even as Cat asked her about it. She finally shook her head and smiled.

"I assume that we can use the vending machines for food as well," Tink said, tilting her head slightly to look at her friend.

"I don't know…" Cat answered, her voice soft and faltering. The fact was that hunger was gnawing at her abdomen, threatening her with consequences, but could they really be so lucky to not be poisoned by food? She didn't know, and neither was she in the right mind to contemplate on that.

Tink opened her mouth to speak when the two of them heard the loudest sound that they'd heard here, the sound of something exploding, and it sounded so terrible at that time that it felt as if it pierced the silent skies mercilessly, ringing their ears to the point that the girls cried out at the abruptness of it, and soon Tink was forcing her to run. Cat saw the sky turning red as if somebody had lit the earth on fire, and she wondered whether that was the case. She didn't hear any cannon, but this was certainly a fire, and she had to get away from it.

They turned a corner then another. Cat had no sense of where they were headed to, and it did not help that she was shaking her head as she ran. She just wanted them to get away when…

"No Napoleon!"

The Careers had just appeared from nowhere, as if conjuring out of the very darkness. Basileus was stopping his ally from doing something, and Cat didn't know what exactly happened, for the events were rapid, but there was a knife sticking out of her neck.

She gasped, falling to the ground, a long wail echoing in her ears. There was so much pain… Cat couldn't process anything else. She vaguely registered Basileus roaring at his ally, some hurried footsteps and someone taking her hand, their hand as small as hers.

"Cat no! CAT!" Tink screamed as Cat took in a sharp breath. She forced herself to open her eyes only to see the shining and teary orbs of her friend.

"I'm sorry," Basileus whispered, and even in her pain Cat could feel the sincerity behind those two words. She shook her head, trying to tell him not to blame himself, but her action made Tink cry harder.

"I'll finish him!" she cried out, "I'll avenge you Cat! I will hunt him down!"

The girl from Three couldn't really speak, but her grip on her friend's hand tightened even as she looked her in the eye and managed to choke a single word, "Win…"

And then her grip slackened, darkness engulfed her and all she heard was a loud cry of her own name.

* * *

**Day Five**

* * *

**Cairn Rochester, 16**

**District Twelve Male**

* * *

To say that Cairn was afraid would be a big understatement.

The boy from Twelve had his knees drawn to his chest, staring blankly at the road. He'd not had a minute of sleep last night, and while Lyanna had been up too, she'd finally dozed off when dawn broke. He however, couldn't bring himself to even try to sleep. His mind was agitated, more than it had ever been, and it was intent on remaining restless. There were, after all, a lot of things to ponder on.

Cairn's mind replayed the event again and again and _again_. He could still feel the frozen lamb he'd pulled out from the inside of his jacket, an item he had taken without reason or thought purely on instinct from the flat's kitchen, and he struck Nereus hard with it, killing him instantly. And then he had- he had…

He did not want to think about it. The sound of his own manic laughter rang in his ears, threatening to tear apart his ear drums and make them bleed, just as he had made Nereus bleed. Cairn was aware that he had managed to scare Lyanna by his laughter, the joy that he must have exhibited. In all honesty, even he was scared of himself.

This ruthless boy wasn't Cairn. The boy could still not get over the fact that he had committed murder, _murder_! And he had laughed… only he knew that it hadn't been the psychotic laughter that Lyanna and the rest must have thought it was, that laughter was an expression of shock at what he'd done, at the fact that he'd claimed a human life and the darkness this realisation was filling him with, alongside another realisation that he would do it again…

He sighed, breath slowly escaping through his lips, as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his brows. His body aches, and the slash was still painful. The two of them had barged into a clinic last night and had found some lotion that Lyanna claimed would help with their wounds. He did not know how she was so sure but they had used it nonetheless. And while the injuries did not heal completely, the two of the most likely would die due to them, at least in a direct manner.

His back still hurt because of the slash, and he winced as he tried to position himself comfortably. He wondered what was up with Rook now. Cairn felt guilty about deserting him and Avni and Josephine's deaths although he knew it wasn't his fault. He had tried to do whatever he could, he had even killed, but the guilt still gnawed at his conscience. He was glad that Rook was alive, and he wondered how he must be handling being all alone and the demise of his District Partner, that little girl who made everyone smile around her. Cairn was sorry that she was gone and he wished she wasn't there to begin with, none of them in fact, because none of them deserved to be here in the Games, except perhaps, Basileus and the other Careers.

Cairn rummaged through his bag absently. He didn't know what to do anymore, and he was sure nobody could help him except himself. But in this situation helping himself would mean bringing himself to kill again…

He glanced at Lyanna, leaning against the wall of a building, keeping some good distance between them as if Cairn was some plague. She had tried to not make it awkward. And that innocent attempt had done exactly what it had tried to avoid. Cairn had shrugged it off but he was curious as to whether his friend trusted him anymore.

"Lyanna?" he muttered softly, sure that his former employee wouldn't respond. Hence, he was surprised when she replied.

"Yeah?"

"You're up?"

"Not really," she yawned, "I mean, I think I was kind of half awake."

"Oh…"

"What's the matter?"

"I…"

Now that he had her attention, he didn't know what he had to say. In all honesty, he hadn't known even before waking her up. Cairn just wanted her to be up so that he could feel her presence, his own thoughts too toxic for his sanity.

"Are you okay?"

Cairn could sense the genuineness in her voice as she asked that question. He inhaled shakily then shook his head.

"What…?"

"Just… restless," he answered, his heart wanting to scream out all his feelings and emotions, all his inner turmoil, but his voice refused to cooperate. He tried to speak but couldn't, and so he simply shook his head. Lyanna crouched over to him and rested a hand gently on his shoulder. The tender gesture surprised Cairn, and he finally smiled.

"It's a lot to take in," she said.

"It certainly is," he muttered.

There was a time when Cairn used to be extremely shy around her, well around everyone, but especially her. Cairn wanted to laugh at his previous self, or maybe he just wanted to laugh at his current self. At least, earlier his biggest problem was talking to people confidently and being shy around girls. His earlier self, the self that he was just a day ago, was innocent. Now, he wasn't. And that was certainly lot to take in.

"Lyanna," he said, steeling his voice, "We need to make plans for the near future."

"What do you mean?"

"We need to take down the Careers," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat, trying hard not to look at their backpack or jute bag or Josephine's- _Lyanna's_\- sword.

"It's easier said that done-"

"We'll manage," he said automatically, not looking into her eyes, "I have an idea. Just… do you still have that can of pepperspray?"

"Yeah…" she said, reaching into the inside of her jacket.

"Well then, this is what we can do…"

* * *

**Hey guys. I'm sorry this chapter didn't turn out well. I've been in a not so good emotional place, and this chapter was hard to write and I had to force myself to write it, partly to get out of that place. Anyway, I still hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Eulogies:**

**11th- Cat Doyle (Killed by Napoleon Walter): I loved, LOVED Cat. I think for that very reason I could not write her end in great detail. Cat was a very unique character, a little kid who could be inspirational and mature and still have the innocence of a child. This was a hard part to write, and I hope I managed to write her at least decently. Rest in peace Cat, you'll be missed.**

**Alliances:**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**Of Sword And Kerosene: Lyanna, Cairn**

**Loners: Rook, Kai, Dakota, Napoleon, Tink, Basileus**


	32. Chapter 32

**Day Five**

* * *

**Nell "Tink" Tinker, 12**

**District Five Female**

* * *

She didn't quite know what was happening.

Tink was imagining the sound of clapping, the occasional repetition of her own words, the wrinkling of nose and the presence of a person almost her age but with wisdom of someone much older. She knew this wasn't the case, that she just missed this presence, but it was hard to handle.

She was walking aimlessly now, her footsteps echoing as her shoes hit the gravel road, and she had no idea where she was going. She saw the chandelier fall on her friend's body, crushing him instantly. She saw that boy from Two emerge from nowhere, and throwing a knife at her friend in complete randomness. She saw the boy run away when his ally turned to attack him and she saw, with a sinking heart, as life slipped away from her friend's being.

Tink stopped abruptly, tears stinging her eyes, and even as a single drop started making its way down her cheek, she wiped it away furiously.

_"Win."_

That's what Cat had said to her with her last bit of strength and life. Win. That's what she had to do at any cost.

But how was she supposed to do it?

"You should eat something Nell."

Tink sighed. She had completely forgotten about the boy tagging along with her. In all honesty, she had no idea why he was there with her, or why she had unspokenly allowed him to come along, but she kept forgetting about him. She'd attribute that to his silence, which was so loud that she couldn't even sense him around. And this when he spoke…

"I'm not hungry," she said, choosing to not look at him, and stared at the building in front of her. It looked like a nice house, something like a mansion, with a water fountain too. Her friends would have loved to play in that.

"Starving yourself is not going to help you, Nell," Basileus said softly, "You need strength to win."

_Win._

There it was again. That she had to win. She had to win! She had to win! She had to-!

"Nell!"

Tink didn't realise when she swooned, lost her balance and was about to fall. She felt strong hands support her and make her lie down on the road itself, but her vision was hazy. It dawned on her that she was trembling, and her tummy ached. She let out a gasp that sounded like a cry for help, and soon Basileus was stuffing fruit juice in her mouth, although she couldn't quite place which fruit it was made of.

"I'll get you something to eat!" Basileus said aloud, as if trying to make sure she heard him, and he started to stand up when she rested her tiny palm on his cool forearm.

"It's fine," she said weakly, although she did feel better. It was probably the extra sugar added to the juice but it did give her some instant energy and she stopped trembling and vision cleared a bit.

"Yeah right," Basileus rolled his eyes, and Tink's head hurt by just watching him do it.

Basileus helped her lean against a post. She protested his claims of her not being well, but was kind of glad when Basileus left her alone to find a vending machine. She still didn't know _why_ they were sticking together. However, she acknowledged that she did appreciate his presence. He was no Cat, or even Jet, but Basileus had helped her out before. And, she mused, Napoleon didn't kill her simply because Basil didn't want him to and was ready to fight him. That was a gesture she could appreciate.

She gasped, holding her head tightly, a low groan of agony emanating from the depths of her throat as she tried her best to not look weak. The efforts were not completely wasted per se, for she did manage to express her headache and heartache with a mere wince, but her emotions were a turmoil. She visualised everything all over again, unnerved at the fact that she had been there both times and had _seen_ it happening. Death was not something to be taken lightly. She didn't even know how exactly she felt, and had no means to explain what she was going through internally, and at the moment she did not even wish to try. Thus, she was grateful to have someone like Basileus with her, someone who never asked her to 'feel better' or 'forget everything'. Tink did not know whether she had just a few seconds, minutes, days or years, but she did know that she would never forget these two deaths in her life, however short or long it would be.

She held her head, as if that simple action would actually help, but it at least gave her the illusion that she was doing _something._ Her body felt weak, the sun high in the sky, glaring at her as if she had stolen its money or something, but in all honesty it had no right to do so. It wasn't hot as such, but she could feel the mighty star, and despite herself she turned away to look at the shadow of a building, the darkness more comforting than the bright sun rays.

She heard footsteps and panicked, but relaxed when she saw it was just Basileus with a loaf of bread and something else… now Tink had no idea where he got those, but that other thing looked weird.

"What is that?" she asked casually.

"This?" Basil asked, raising the small packet he carried, "Mashed aubergine."

"Wha…"

Tink could not even voice out her surprise as Basil gave her a slice of bread and the packed of mashed aubergine. She tucked in hesitantly, trying not to feel guilty about eating. After all, she was grieving, and eating anything felt like an insult to her friend's memory, but she forced herself to do so anyway. The aubergine wasn't as bad as she'd thought, and the bread was thankfully not stale. That was the best that she could have asked for.

"Thanks," she muttered, feeling much better now that she'd eaten something. Basil smiled awkwardly when she continued, "Join in."

"I-I'm not hungry-"

"Come on!"

And with that, Basil and Tink shared their meal.

* * *

**Night Five**

* * *

**Dakota Neenah, 15**

**District Nine Female**

* * *

Dakota felt hurt.

She still couldn't believe that Kai had just walked away last night. He had pushed her so hard, ignored her pleas and had made sure not to even turn around once to acknowledge her.

She was still in that very park. Something nagged at her head to move forward, that staying around at the same place was not a good idea at all. And yet, the usually free spirited Dakota ignored this voice. It wasn't due to an uncanny attachment to this place where Kai left her; it was simply because she did not want to move. It seemed as if her limbs would freeze the moment she started towards the gate, that her heartbeat would increase, although, as time passed, she concluded it was only because she just didn't want to leave and go out on the street. The Capitol was, after all, a dangerous place.

So, she just sat on a swing, feeling acutely miserable, numerous toxic thoughts racing across her unusually sad mind. They were mainly words, words that Kai had uttered before leaving. He had accused her of using him. It was so absurd, _so_ absurd, that she didn't even know how Kai could bring himself to say it. Well, it was true that Kai was himself the most absurd person anyone could ever see, as many people would say, but it still did not sit well with Dakota.

Was her poverty really such a despicable quality of hers? She didn't ask to be born in a poor family, but did she deserve not having enough of anything, including basic things like food? Did she want the richer people to spend their hard earned money on her?

_No, no and no._

She sighed. Dakota knew poor people were not 'bad' as Kai had claimed, nor was she poor in every way. After all, she had the best family anyone could possibly have! They loved her, cherished her, and they worked together to sustain themselves through thick and thin. They didn't need money to be happy, they loved each other to the extent that they needed nothing else. Sure, Dakota and her sister often had 'free' access to stuff that only the rich could afford, but she'd never begged anyone to give it to them! Plus, why were such things accessible only to the rich? Wasn't that wrong? Kai worked as a skeleton in a haunted house to scare children, and he had the audacity to call her all those things?!

"Aargh!" she cried out in frustration.

No matter how hard she tried to not pay it any heed, Kai's words rang in her ears. She would inevitably start feeling bad about her situation, curse her poverty and then she'd start thinking about the unfairness of this inequality and then about how rich people were self centred and had no idea what was happening on the ground level, and then she would think about how she hurt Kai and Kai hurt her and she'd end up becoming sad. It was an endless cycle, meant to haunt her till infinity, and she felt powerless against these feelings.

Perhaps, she concluded, it would be best to leave the park.

She reached out for her bag, fingers brushing over it, when she froze. This bag… Kai had left this bag behind. Not because he cared but because she was a greedy poor girl.

Dakota screamed and hurled the bag with all her might at the opposite wall. The wall was quite far, and the bag didn't quite hit it, bouncing stupidly on the ground, resting on the grass. She stared at it, fury clutching at her heart as she saw that even a lifeless bag wasn't ready to work how she wanted it to, that she couldn't even throw it well enough, and she stomped her foot.

Her inner voice told her again that she should move on and not act rashly, that she should utilise whatever resource she had in the most optimum way, but her emotions were a mess, combating with each other, and they were so hell bent on being felt that they managed to drown out the inner voice completely.

And so, Dakota was running now, running through the gates and blindly hitting the road. She didn't know what turn she took, or how much noise she made as she ran, discretion and caution long forgotten. The wind hit her in the face, her hair flying everywhere and being nothing but trouble, yet she did not stop.

Not until she saw the Career.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. She had run back to the area around Cafe Horseboy, and she saw Napoleon just chilling out at the entrance of a shop. His back was turned to her, and Dakota wondered whether he knew she was there.

_Go confront him. Show Kai and everyone else that you're more than a poor kid!_

_Are you mad, Dakota?! He's a Career! Sneak away!_

_Sneaking won't help! Fight him!_

_Don't fight! Run!_

At the moment she wanted to run from her own thoughts. She stood rooted to the spot, her mind duelling against itself, and she just couldn't decide what to do. Any rational person would run, and Dakota was one of them, and so her mind reasoned with itself to take off. Hence, she ran.

However, in her panic, she forgot that she needed to _sneak _out. Her footsteps were noticeably loud which obviously meant that Napoleon noticed her.

"Hey!" he cried out, but Dakota kept running.

What did she get herself into?! Why couldn't she be more careful? What on earth had she done?! She heard him picking up speed, and Dakota swerved aside, pretending to go left but running around the right corner. This did slow down Napoleon a bit but she still wouldn't consider herself safe.

And then she fell down against the road as someone heavy crashed into her. She let out a cry of pain as Napoleon pinned her down, sitting down on top of her.

"Please!" she gasped, "Please let me go! Please don't kill me!"

She heard him sigh sadly and for a moment she thought that maybe he'd actually let her go. Then he spoke.

"I don't want to do this sweetheart. But I'll have to."

"NO PLEASE DON-"

Dakota cried out as something sharp impaled her back. Her body started shivering, her vision started going blank. The pain seared through every fabric if her being and she was sobbing in agony, her chest heaving against the road, when Napoleon pulled out his sword and the pain pierced through her body, her heart and her mind, to the extent she couldn't even hear her own last cry.

* * *

**Aron Rail, 14**

**District Six Male**

* * *

In all honesty, Aron was missing the car.

It had made their lives considerably easier. They didn't have to worry about much, they'd managed to take down two Careers with it and saved themselves, and they'd had a generally good time while they had it.

However, Aron was concerned that he was probably going… weak. He remembered that back home, he didn't care about anyone but Eron. His brother was enough for him, he was all he needed. However, ever since being Reaped this girl, this gold digger, this thief… she'd become his friend. He had a soft spot for her, and he didn't want to admit it but he loved her. It wasn't an infatuation or anything romantic, he knew that, but having a friend felt nice. He was used to her astronomically annoying presence by now, and he wished she'd always stay around.

And that was a problem.

Yes, he was a child, but he was no ordinary child. He had a brutal childhood, he'd seen crime, death, corruption, everything. And there was one thing that he'd noticed, and it was that nobody who had a soft spot for any other person would really survive. The world itself was cruel to those who were good, those who loved, those who were genuine. Him caring about another person was not a good news for himself, and he knew he had to get away from her. Probably now wasn't the time, but he'd have to ditch her. That was a given. And that thought soured his mood.

Presently, however, his mood was bad due to another reason altogether. Here he was, in this posh boutique, mannequins surrounding him everywhere, dressed in clothes that he could neither afford nor make sense of. The air-conditioning was hitting him hard, and the polished marble floor did not really instill any confidence in him in the eventuality of having to run out of the place. What bothered him the most were the mannequins themselves. Their features were eerily human, and he could swear that he had seen one of them look at _him_, looked through his soul. He wanted to leave the place as soon as he could and he voiced those particular concerns to Akira, who brushed them off. Usually, she'd at least listen, but right now she was in her _domain._

"Look!" she exclaimed, pointing towards a mannequin. Aron turned to where she was pointing, and while he could say with absolute certainty that she meant to show him the outfit, his own eyes were focused on its scarily real looking green eyes.

"We should leave," he muttered, grabbing her elbow, "Come on!"

"Oh Aron!" she huffed, "Look at her dress! It's so beautiful!"

"Akira-"

"Peach is just my colour. I really like the V neck too. It's a little short, but I can make do with it."

"I don't think-"

"Actually, I think peach is not my colour after all. I wish I could get the same dress in pink or teal shade, you know?"

"There's neither pink nor teal here," Aron said firmly, "Let's go."

"No wait!" she cried out, and ran over to another mannequin. Well, not exactly _ran_, as the floor was really slippery, but something similar to it. She came to a halt in front of a rather tall mannequin, dressed in jean shorts, calf length boots, and a nice teal coloured top, which Aron was sure had not existed a moment ago.

"This is beautiful!" she whispered, clapping her hands to her mouth, moving around the mannequin to see the design, but Aron was fidgeting now.

"I want this," she declared, throwing her arms up, "But where do I find it in this big boutique?"

And that was when Aron saw the placard like thing, pointing at a counter right behind him. Apparently, Akira noticed it too, for she squealed in delight, hurrying over to the counter, and started rummaging through the shelves, rows and rows of shelves. Aron couldn't see _why_ she wanted new clothes in an _arena_, but what could he do other than just watch her going crazy.

"Found it!" she exclaimed, pulling out the clothes that were burdened under the weight of their fellow clothes.

"Aron turn around!"

"What?"

"I'm going to change!"

He stared at her dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to speak, but words seemed to be failing him.

"Turn around or I'll do it right here!"

"Are. You. Mad."

That was all he could get out. Did this dumb girl not understand that these clothes would make her visible, that she'd stand out, that she'd be endangering her freaking life even more than it already was?! What kind of obsession was this?!

"You're just jealous that you can't pull off stylish clothes as well as I can, pfft."

"Wha…"

She turned her back to him and started tucking at her turtle neck. As he realised what was happening, he turned around hastily, and he would have blushed in any other situation, but right now he was extremely bothered with this behaviour. She actually thought this was about _clothes_?

And that was it. Aron knew that he couldn't really stick with this girl any longer. She was dangerous, more dangerous to their alliance than to the enemy, and he didn't want to throw away his life. He was done with her.

He started walking towards the door. Akira could deal with the stuff by herself. He wondered whether he should leave some things behind but when he heard her giggle, he knew he should be out. He pushed the door.

Nothing.

He pushed again. He pulled. Nothing at all. He threw himself against the door but it didn't budge.

"Akira!" he cried out, "Akira we're trapped!"

"What?!"

He turned around to see her coming towards him, dressed up like the mannequin, having shed off her arena outfit. He cringed at this even while panicking, and turned back towards the door.

"Try opening it."

"Nice idea Akira. Didn't think of that at all."

"I knew it. You are panicking for nothing."

Aron cried in exasperation as Akira walked past him and pushed the door, then pulled it, then threw her weight against it. The door was equally unrelenting to her efforts, and this finally managed to scare her.

"Oh goodness we're really trapped!"

His breathing hitched. What had they gotten into? Why did he ever let Akira drag him here? It was all her fault. She and her greed… her presence was just making him angrier.

"What do we do?"

"What do we do?!" Aron roared, "_You_ are the reason we're stuck here! I told you that we shouldn't come here! I told you we need to leave! But you were busy trying out that stupid outfit!"

His ears were heated, he was panting, and he wanted to punch her in the face. But all he did was cry out in frustration as she started sobbing.

He ignored this action, and started looking around, when his chest dropped to his stomach. He let out a gasp, and despite himself reached out for his friend's hand, who cried out in fear as she saw what he saw.

Well, they weren't alone after all…

* * *

**Napoleon "Nate" Walter, 18**

**District Two** **Male**

* * *

He pulled out the sword from Dakota's back, but almost dropped it when he heard her guttural cry, that of a dying wretched animal, until it faded into nothingness, a cannon going off in the wind.

Napoleon got off of her and steadied his sword. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathing hard. This was the second child that he had killed. He thought about Cat, who did not even have a moment to register what had happened, and he thought about Dakota, the girl whose pleas still echoed in his head. He did not know which of the two was more unfortunate.

He slowly opened his eyes and tore off a part of his shirt, just a small bit, and started wiping his sword. Clean blades were important. It had always been the case with him. While Napoleon had never out in much effort in training while he was at the Academy, he did make sure of some things like keeping the weapons clean, making clinical cuts, avoiding getting messy, and acknowledge what he was doing. The last part was always the hardest but he had mastered it now. He was aware of what he did and why he did it. He had killed Kespar, that poor boy who stood no chance anyway. He had killed Josephine, his District Partner. He had killed Cat, who'd been completely harmless. In his defence, he could say that he honestly did not know that he had sent his knife her way. He hadn't known who it was at all, not before the knife had left his grasp. And finally, he just killed Dakota, because he wanted the numbers to dwindle.

Napoleon was no fool; he knew Basileus had the greatest chance to be a victor, and the other boy could indeed beat him to a pulp. He would have done that last night had Nate not fled as soon as he had realised what he had done, but it had only been his agility that had saved him. If he were to encounter Basileus again, there was a good chance he'd lose. Thus, keeping this possibility in mind, Nate was ready to kill anyone he met, other than Basil, whom he would avoid in the hopes that he would be killed in some other manner.

Soon, his blade glinted in the moonlight, and despite himself Napoleon allowed himself a smile. Tucking the bloody rag into his pocket for probable future use, he stepped back from the corpse.

He adjusted his glasses, mildly amazed that they hadn't fallen off yet. He had been sure he'd lose them in the havoc of the arena, but thankfully he could still see clearly. Nate cast one final look at Dakota, pity and sadness filling his heart, but he ignored those feelings just he had always done in the past.

And so, he walked away.

The streets were deserted, wind whistling through the air, a sudden shudder going down his spine. Nate rubbed his arms together, his sword back in its sheath, and he pulled the jacket closer. It was a cool night and it made him miss home and the work he did.

Nate briefly wondered whether anyone would want to get an appointment with him when he would go out. After all, he had killed four children. Would anyone want to see a therapist like that? In all honesty, he would not. But again, it was District Two, and in spite of the fall of Capitol and even the temporary removal of Games, folks in District Two had an uncanny interest in them. They might be glad about talking things through with a victor. There would be only one impediment in his path, and that was his hands being stained with Josephine's blood. Murdering a district partner was bad, but doing so when both the people from Two could have won would certainly not sit well with the people back home.

Nate wondered where Lyanna was right now. She was wounded, but had survived till now despite that, and it honestly impressed him. In fact, he smiled to himself as he thought of the beautiful warrior, and how fun it would be to combat with her, slowly finishing her off. In all honesty, Nate had no idea why he felt this way for her, but he embraced his thoughts whole heartedly, and was keen to cross paths with her.

Perhaps he was _too _keen, for he saw her coming around from a corner, alone, holding Josephine's sword. Their eyes met, and Lyanna paled visibly even as Nate smirked.

"Well, well, well, I was just thinking about you," he smiled at her, "Good to see you Lyanna."

Her hand holding the sword shook slightly, but she raised it nonetheless. She most likely did not know how to use it exactly, but her stance was defensive.

Napoleon charged.

He had probably expected her to fight back. Maybe he had expected her to dodge. But when he saw her giving a yelp and running away, something didn't feel right. Lyanna had never seemed like a person who would run away. But who knew what the matter was anyway? Maybe she was afraid after all, being all alone. Nate wondered for a second about Cairn, her ally, but he pushed that thought away as Cairn was unimportant.

Nate chased after Lyanna, his speed picking up, and he swung his sword. Lyanna ducked and he missed barely, slashing off a few strands of her hair. And then, she did what he had hoped for; she fought back.

Lyanna attacked him with her sword, which he easily blocked, before pushing back hard. Lyanna stumbled and Nate grabbed his chance and struck, but she parried, holding the sword tightly with both hands. She kicked at him but he moved aside effortlessly and then slashed again. The girl panicked and stepped back, tripping over herself and falling down with a loud _thud._

Well, now he just had to go for the kill…

* * *

**Lyanna Winters, 18**

**District Twelve Female**

* * *

Lyanna hadn't been able to decide whether her employer was insane or a genius… or both.

Cairn's plan was brilliant on many levels, and if it worked then there was no way on earth that Napoleon would survive. However, there were way too many loopholes for it to actually succeed. Napoleon was not a fool, and the challenge was so risky that Lyanna was afraid, and she admitted it. There was, after all, no second chance here.

"You've a better chance to do it than I do," Cairn had said, "If I do it, we'll both end up being dead."

Well, Lyanna was stronger and faster than he was, but she was also no match for a Career, realistically speaking. She argued that Nate would hunt her down, but Cairn counter argued that it meant that she would work as a perfect bait. Lyanna did not feel very good about it, but finally conceded.

They had both known that the two Careers would head back to the cornucopia. The two of them had been keeping watch for some time now, not really on them once they made sure that they were back in the park, but around the surrounding areas.

It was then that Lyanna had seen Nate in another park, all alone.

That had taken her by surprise. Where was Basileus? Was he lurking somewhere else? She didn't know but they had no time at all to improvise. They'd been hoping they could take out both of them at once, but with Basil gone, they'd have to just make peace with getting Napoleon. All Lyanna could possibly do was hope that the other Career wasn't around. When she told Cairn, he had asked her not to worry, although he had looked pretty worried himself. That had not instilled confidence in her. She had wondered then how things would go.

And now, here she was, fighting Napoleon head on with a sword.

Moreover, she had also managed to trip over herself like a fool, falling down hard. She gasped for this had _not _been in the plan, and her heart beat a little faster as Nate ambled over to her, his sword ready to strike. She swing her sword blindly, and as she had expected, Nate thought it was a panicked move and he stepped back hurriedly, but those few seconds were all Lyanna needed to attack again. He had good reflexes though, and he dodged the attack, but not before the sudden movement tossed his glasses aside. Lyanna was not aware how bad his eyesight was, but she knew she had to capitalise on this distraction, and thus she launched a barrage of attacks at him, and now he was the one defending himself. They had turned a semi circle, literally, and now Lyanna was in the direction from where Napoleon had come, pushing him backwards towards the way _she _had come from.

Lyanna was exhausted, and the rapid movements made her limbs hurt so much that she suspected they'd fall off. She cried out as she slashed at him, but apparently Napoleon's eyesight was not as bad as she had dared to hope. And soon, he had regained enough composure to be the attacker again. He struck at her but she ducked and rolled out of the way even as he quickly brought down the sword. Seeing an opening, she attacked, but he parried swiftly. The two swords clashed against each other as their masters held on, and Lyanna could see a fiery look in Napoleon's eyes, his smirk not making her feel any better.

Probably she got distracted by that unsettling smile, for Napoleon found that moment to kick her hard in the stomach. Her breath exploded as she was thrown back, landing on her back. Her abdominal muscles screamed for help, and she panted hard. She opened her eyes fearfully, only to see that Napoleon was right over her, and she screamed as he struck down. She jerked her head away, missing the sword point by a few centimetres, and shoved her own blade upwards and he stumbled back clumsily to avoid getting impaled.

And then they were fighting again. Sometimes he was on the offence, and sometimes it was her, and a point came when they both foolishly managed to lose their swords.

Nate tackled her to the ground, his face dangerously close to hers, and her heart started pounding in fear. This was certainly not a part of the plan! He pinched her across the face, causing her to cry out in pain, and even as his hand neared her throat, she did the only thing she could think of.

She spat at him.

Some of it landed on him, and sadly, some of it landed on her too due to gravity, but the distraction was all Lyanna needed. She dug her nails into his skin, and as he faltered back, she kicked him and rolled away.

Staggering to her feet, Lyanna ran, unable to pick up the sword despite wanting to. Napoleon didn't bother picking up his either as he chased her. She glanced back once, and wished she hadn't done it, for Napoleon looked like fury personified, his eyes resembling angry flames, his face pink with rage, and a disturbingly calm curl on his lips. As Lyanna ran, she just wished she'd reach the spot soon. Why did she agree to do this?! Was there really no other way?!

Napoleon was about to catch up to her. Lyanna sighed, and dug out her can of pepper spray, hoping she'd reach her destination soon, and that Cairn was ready for the Career.

And that was when a cannon went off.

Lyanna jumped at the sudden sound. Who could it have been? Panicked, she hoped that it wasn't Cairn. That would be too horrible for him and her…

However, the cannon had slowed down her progress, and Napoleon had finally reached her. As he pounced, Lyanna gave herself a slap to snap out of her panic mode and sprayed the pepper in his eyes.

"Aargh!" he screamed, trying to get it out of burning eyes while still trying to find her.

In all honesty, she cursed not having her sword. She could have finished him off right here, Cairn's plan wouldn't be needed at all. In fact, she could have used the spray before and things would have been over already.

As the Career attempted to catch her, his clumsy efforts being fruitless, Lyanna realised she had arrived at the spot.

Her heart was giddy now. She was about to do this. She was really about to do this. There could be no backing out now.

She steeled herself and sprayed him even more. As he tried to cool his eyes, Lyanna watched as Cairn, appearing out of his hiding spot, pulled a rope like thing and the jute bag, that was hanging over Nate's head, tilted upside down, the container inside pouring down all the liquid on the Career, who stopped when he realised what was happening from the smell.

"No…" he whispered, "Lyanna, you can't do this. You can't do this!"

"I'm sorry Napoleon," she said, her voice firm and cold, even as her heart sank deeper and deeper with guilt, fury, shame, anger and innumerable other emotions.

Lyanna stepped back as Cairn lit a branch they'd found earlier, and Lyanna took it from him as they moved a safe distance away. She had more strength than him, it only made sense that she threw it.

And she did.

The cries that followed were not human. Lyanna watched with dead eyes as Napoleon flailed, a huge ball of flames, his cries and pleads echoing even in the outdoors. She was rooted to the spot but Cairn pulled her along, getting them away from the Career, a mere boy burning to his death.

She had done it. She had tortured him. She had made him face hell on earth.

Lyanna threw up. How could she? How did she just give such a terrible fate to another human? What had she become?

"And the last proper Career is down," Cairn whispered, his own voice strained.

And Lyanna… she couldn't move her gaze away from Napoleon as he screamed for help, for mercy, and she couldn't turn away as he fell, his pyre burning bright.

* * *

**So this is it. We're in the Final Seven.**

**Eulogies:**

**10th- Dakota Neenah (killed by Napoleon Walter): Thorne, I loved Dakota. She was this amazing free spirited girl who had her own insecurities and flaws but was a fun person. Dakota honestly felt the most human character to me in this story. She was an absolute delight to write. Rest in peace Dakota, love you.**

**So I know I should be doing Nate's eulogy but he has placed 8th and we don't yet know who's gone 9th. Thus, I'll do his eulogy next chapter just to maintain that order.**

**I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'd appreciate a review if you can. Let me know your thoughts and see you soon, hopefully.**

**Alliances:**

**I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira**

**Of Sword And Kerosene: Lyanna, Cairn**

**We Honestly Don't Know Anymore: Tink, Basileus**

**Loners: Rook, Kai**

**Have a great day!**


	33. Chapter 33

**Night Five**

* * *

**Aron Rail, 14**

**District Six Male**

* * *

He stepped back a step, hand entwined with Akira's, her grip tight on his hand. Aron could _feel_ her going pale, and he knew he must look like a ghost too. Hopefully, they would not know he was scared out of his senses.

He had been so certain about it, and he cursed Akira in his head. He had told her they needed to leave! He had told her not to take anything from here! And she had simply refused to listen!

They were surrounded from all angles, outnumbered so greatly that Aron almost gave up hope. He had felt earlier that the mannequins had been looking at them, at _him_, but he was terrified to see that he was right. They did not look pretty at all to him now, creepy smiles on their faces, almost fifteen of them nearing the two.

Aron turned back to the door, trying the lock in vain in the hopes of it opening. _Of course_ it did not! He punched against it, his heart beating with the rhythm of the door, the only difference being that his heart was ready to fall out whereas the door did not budge.

"What the…!"

"Good evening."

Aron froze at those words. Beside him, Akira yelped.

The voice was, well it was feminine, but that just made it even scarier, because it was devoid of humanity in its entirety, and it did not resemble the voice of a robot either. It could not have possibly belonged to anything, as if coming from the end of a long tunnel and yet very clear in his head. The voice gave him a jerk, but Aron had mastered his emotions at a young age, so he recomposed his features to resemble the strong man he was.

"I'm Arabella," the voice said, which Aron now noticed was the mannequin wearing the same outfit as Akira, "I'm here at your service. I hope you both are enjoying yourselves."

"We are," Aron replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking, "Thank you."

_These are mutts. They're playing an angle. Just play along Aron._

"We are?" Akira muttered in wonder, "Dude, I'm scared out of my mind!"

It took all his willpower, self control and possibly some level of invoking his inner self to stop himself from punching her in the face, or even yell at her. It was almost as if Akira was bent on destroying him although he couldn't see why. They had been protecting each other all this time after all. He turned towards her with a murderous glare, that wiped the confused look from her face completely, and then he smiled.

"Scared? No Akira, you're _excited._"

The stupid girl seemed to have finally grasped what he was saying. Her mouth turned into a small 'O', but then she quickly rearranged her features to that of an excited girl.

"Yes indeed! I'm excited!"

"I'm glad about that," Arabella said with a broad smile, her voice still piercing through Aron's ears, "Ma'am, that outfit looks _really_ good on you!"

"Oh, thank you! Your designs are amazing!"

"We're happy you like them! Sir, would you like to try out something? We've got really cool designs that we think you'll really like."

What was he supposed to say to _that_?

"Uh…"

"Why not?" Akira said, clapping him on the back, souring his mood despite the crisis at hand, "Come on Aron! Let's get a change of clothes!"

"This way, sir," Arabella said, smiling brightly, and Aron saw that her teeth were shining more than any diamond he'd smuggled did. They were also sharper than any knife he'd used. That was what gave him the incentive to move forward.

Aron could not shake off the stares from the other mannequins, his mind racing now. How was he supposed to get out of this boutique?! The only door was stuck, he was there with a girl who would sell her soul for these clothes, and the mannequins were just eerie. What did he walk into?

Arabella showed his T-shirts, hoodies, jumpers, jackets, shirts, blazers… everything. In all honesty, Aron loved all those designs, especially this one grey hoodie that looked as if it was literally rippling whenever it was moved. But he was not so overwhelmed that he would forget his senses, so he pretended to be mildly interested even as Akira rummaged through everything there was.

"You should _totally _get this," she said, holding up an electric blue blazer that had the fragrance that reminded him of saltwater. He smiled at her, eyes trying to berate the girl, but still keeping patience.

"Sir it would actually really suit you," Arabella said, "It isn't even very pricey."

_Pricey._

Aron gulped, his gaze frozen at the blazer. _Pricey._ His eyes moved to Akira, who didn't seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. She looked at him with concern, and he turned away.

"Um, I'll try these out," he said, randomly picking up some shirts, "Akira, coe and help me."

"You need help in changing clothes?" she remarked, "Are you sure you're not being a per-"

"Come on _darling_," he said, holding her gaze steadily now, hoping that she caught his hint. Her expression changed, as if something bizarre had just dawned on her, and she giggled gently.

"Of course, you need help," she said, "Trial room?"

"There," Arabella pointed to the far left corner of the boutique.

"Thank you," they both muttered and went over to the trial room, even as Aron tried to keep all the mannequins in his vision. It was quite hard, as they were all scattered, and his mind was shutting down.

_Think! Think! THINK!"_

He saw a beautiful 'Behold! This Beutique' written on the door of the trial room. It was a rather unique name, albeit cringeworthy. He pushed through the door and locked it behind them.

"Akira, we're in trouble," he whispered.

"I know. Those mannequins are dangerous."

"They talked about things here having a price," he replied urgently, trying to keep panic at bay, "Prices in the arena can't be good."

"Do you mean…?"

"Yes! They'll _charge _you for that outfit. Me too if i get something from here."

"I'll-I'll just change back."

"Akira," Aron said sadly, his voice cracking, "We can't leave without buying something."

* * *

**Akira Tuktuk, 16**

**District Six Female**

* * *

Akira stared at him incredulously, her heart slowing down to a pace as if it wasn't beating at all, and it probably wouldn't very soon anyway. She started falling forward but Aron caught her before her head actually fit the wall.

"You can always windowshop," she murmured, trying to convince herself instead of him. Of course they could always just windowshop and leave! After all, the customer was the king! Right?

"We need to think of something," Aron said, "And fast."

"Can't I just-"

"Something that doesn't include window shopping."

"Oh… Don't you think we should at least try asking them?"

"They are _mutts_, Akira!" Aron snapped, "They'll rip us apart!"

"We can pay them after winning the cash prize."

"Do you _really_ think they'll take _cash_?"

In all honesty… she did not. Well, she loved cash, and she'd take it even if she was a stunning mannequin, but she knew other people did not have the same taste as her. Aron looked at her with a sort of demented look, as if hoping she'd have answers. That terrified her through and through.

"I- I don't know what to do," she whispered, "Is there any other door?"

"There could be a bathroom and we can use its windows, if there are any."

"I don't think I saw any bathroom," Akira muttered, her voice straining as she forced herself to not break down and weep at her rotten fate.

"Well then, we're screwed."

"There's got to be a way!"

Aron sighed, leaning against the wall, the mirror reflecting his back. He shut his eyes, his chest heaving, and Akira sat down on a stool to steady herself. Her breath shook as she stared at the mirror. What the heck did she get them into?! How could she be so stupid? Akira clenched her fists. She would do whatever she could to get out, however bad it would be. Preferably, Aron would join her outside.

She was startled as somebody knocked smartly on the door. Aron jumped at that, standing up straight. Akira calmed down her nerves and then spoke.

"Yes?"

"Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"Uh no," she replied, "He's-he's checking them out thoroughly."

"Oh okay. Please let me know if there's a problem or if you need anything. I'm right outside."

_I'm right outside._

Akira turned to Aron, her eyes ready to pop out and fall down, mouth hanging open, even as he licked his lips as if to get a hold of his situation. If Arabella was indeed _right outside_, then they couldn't really discuss anything more here without risking her hearing all of it. And they couldn't risk it right now.

Akira clenched her fists, her mind made up. She'd hoped it would not come to it but there was no choice left now.

"Let's go," she said, her voice surprisingly clear to her, her heart as calm as the ocean. She was ready for whatever would come their way.

"Wha-"

"There's no point to delaying this any further."

A look of understanding passed between the two. There was no sneaking out of this situation, they'd have to confront it.

The two of them walked out of the trial room, and Akira saw Arabella standing there, so close to the door that they almost bumped into her, and before Akira could collect herself, a cannon exploded.

She jumped at that, her heart skipping a beat. For a second it felt as if it was _her _cannon, and she took a couple of seconds to realise that she was quite alive… for now.

"Oh don't mind that," Arabella said, "There have been few disturbances since a few days, but I'm sure this noise issue will be resolved soon."

_Ah yes, it will be resolved very soon._

After all, they were in the final nine now. The cannons would stop exploding very soon.

"So, sir, did anything take your fancy?"

"Uh… the designs are really beautiful but- but the problem is with me. I don't look good in anything."

"That's not true sir! You are very handsome!"

They smiled awkwardly, trying to walk towards the door as unnoticeably as they could. Akira tried the door again as Aron scanned the area for any other door, window, anything. The main door was still locked.

"Don't worry about that," Arabella beamed at them, "We lock the door to ensure nobody windowshops."

"Window shopping is disgusting," another mannequin said, flipping her long dark tresses threateningly, "We don't like that kind of people."

Arabella sighed dramatically, spreading her arms wide, "That's true. But you both are nice to purchase at least that outfit."

"Uh…"

"Wait let's see. That costs about…"

Arabella magically pulled out a calculator from her pocket, and started typing away furiously at it. Akira became calmer and calmer as the mannequin continued with the calculations.

"Okay," Arabella announced, "That will be about two litres of blood."

Now, Akira had expected a lot of things, but not _that_. Losing two litres of blood would easily kill a person! She stepped back a little, staggering just a bit.

"Uh, what do you do with window shoppers?"

"We collect twice the standard payment from them," Arabella smirked, "Time is money and thus by wasting our time, such people waste our money. So we collect about three litres to four litres from them."

"Ah…"

"Well," Aron spoke up, "After paying, we can leave right?"

"Yes!"

"Can we get a discount?"

"A discount?"

"Please?"

Arabella sighed, quiet for a second as if contemplating on the question. Aron and Akira exchanged a glance even as the mutt smiled.

"Sure! That'll just be 1.8 litres then."

The pair from Six stared at the mannequin, and Akira's heart dropped. She had accepted the situation now. There was no way they could escape. She tried to remember how much blood loss would kill her and she was sure that it was certainly around the stated quantity.

"Can we-can we pay half and half?" she asked, her tone calm.

"I mean, of course-"

"There will be no need for that."

Akira turned towards Aron, confused. What was he getting on? Had he figured out a strategy? But… it didn't feel like it. Akira noticed that he refused to meet her eyes, looking at the floor. And suddenly it dawned on her.

No… no!

"Since she's the one who's buying it," Aron said, "She should be paying."

Akira stared at him incredulously, a tear trickling down her face, her mouth agape. He was doing this… she was calculating how to save them both but he was seriously doing this…

"Sure, sir. You may leave."

The mannequins circled Akira even as Aron started walking away. She watched his retreating form, she saw that he did not look back even once. He was doing this.

Well then, it was time to show her real side.

Akira ran and dived at the boy, the abruptness and her sheer force taking him down, and as he crashed into the ground, she sat down forcefully on his back, exerting all her weight on him. It helped that she was heavier than she was. Aron flailed, screaming, trying to throw her off, Akira dug her finger into his eye. His scream chilled her blood, but not more than his betrayal had, and in a swift motion she snapped his neck, the cannon exploding immediately.

"You thought you were manipulating me?!" Akira screamed, her voice like a wretched animal's, "You thought you could play me?! I was wrong about you, I thought that maybe you'd actually come to care, but no-no! You-you tried to betray me!"

And with that she joined both her hands, making a single fist, and brought it down on his back with all her rage. Lowering her head to his ear level, she whispered, "I was playing you the whole time, Aron. I acted dumb and it worked. I persuaded you into eating and drinking everything first in case the things in the vending machine were poisoned, and you danced to my tunes like a fool. But you know what, Aron, I cared for you. I was trying to get us both out. But then- you showed your true self."

She ran her hand through his hair, tears falling now. It was true that she'd always known of his manipulative nature and that she had been manipulating him since she saw him on the train, playing dumb to give him a sense of superiority over her. But then, through the course of their journey, she had started loving him. Yes, she had loved him dearly, and she had been willing to put herself at a disadvantage to save both of them. But he was ready to- he was ready to sacrifice her. She sobbed, her heart breaking at the betrayal and her own action, and she kissed the back of his head, her tears falling into his hair.

She got off him, tears straining her head, and looked at Arabella, her vision slightly foggy from crying.

"He'll pay."

The mannequin smiled at her even as Akira walked through the door and into the night, her heart nothing but shreds of its former self.

* * *

**Day Six**

* * *

**Kai Jung, 18**

**District Nine Male**

* * *

He was back here.

As the sky turned a lovely shade of pink, as if everything was going right in the world, as if the sky itself was laughing at him. The world had no right to be as happy as it looked, and it frustrated Kai even more.

He felt dazed as he staggered to the bench they'd sat on that night, him and his friend. Kai stared at it blankly. He'd been sitting there, she had been sleeping peacefully with her head on his lap. Then he had found out the truth.

The truth that killed her.

Kai stared at the wooden bench, his eyes noticing the fine lines on it that had remained despite the polishing. Gingerly, he rested his hand on the backrest of the bench, his fingers curling around the wood.

A sob escaped his lips.

It was his fault, it had all been his fault. He had not even bothered to listen to her… His words echoed in his ears, those harsh words that must have certainly hurt her.

_"There's nothing left to listen to. You've lied to me and betrayed my trust."_

_"Keep the bag. That's what people like you want anyway, don't you? That people who have earned their resources sacrifice them for you? Give them away for free?"_

Another sob.

He should not have said those words. He was hurt then, hurt at being betrayed, hurt that she had hidden such an important thing about her from him. He had felt that after going through so much, he deserved to know the truth. He was hurt that she could not trust him.

But… was he really approachable? Would he continue to be her friend if she had been open with him? Kai was sure that, after Cafe Horseboy, he would. Her niceness would have even changed his perspective, he believed. But did he make himself look as if he was willing to accept it? He had continued with his ranting, his complaints… she would have felt so hurt, so offended by his constant whining about the poor. What had the poor done to him personally anyway? Was it right for him to paint all of the proletariat as evil people because of a few bad experiences? What about _her_? Her being in his life had been one of the most beautiful things he could have experienced.

But he did not let her know that he was his friend and was ready to accept her in any way. He remembered pushing her so hard that she had fallen on the ground, and her voice echoed in his head, her voice calling out _his_ name, pleading with him to stay.

And Kai… Kai had walked away.

He punched the bench hard, his knuckles turning red at the impact.

"AARGH!" he cried out in frustration, tears falling freely now. He toppled over the bench and stomped his feet, crying out in rage.

"WHY?!" he screamed, punching the trunk of a tree, his knuckles bleeding now, "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO _DIE_?!"

Warm blood dripped from his knuckles, smearing the tree bark in crimson, even as Kai yelled at the sky, his voice guttural, sound waves that carried tremendous pain from his heart, his very soul, and his vision blurred because of the tears, but Kai did not stop himself.

_You killed her Kai, you!_

"No!" he cried out, his voice ruptured, "No I did not! I did not!"

_You deserted her. You didn't even listen. Now you'll create this charade of grief?_

"IT'S NOT A CHARADE!" he bellowed. How could he even accuse someone of such a thing, especially himself?! Her death was ripping his soul apart, and he knew it, he could feel it in his heart, see it in the blood that trickled down his fingers. He could picture her then, picture her as she saved him at the Cafe, pictured her smiling, and it made him yell even more loudly, his voice choking on itself.

He ran his bloody hands through his hair in frustration and guilt, anger consuming him as he yanked his strands, the blood mixing with his sweat and dirt from the arena, staining his hair.

"I…"

His swollen eyes fell on a black heap some distance away. He blinked, perplexed, and dragged himself over to it. On reaching the site, he realised what it was.

The bag, the cursed bag. The bag that he had 'given' her, the bag that he had used to insult her. He picked it up gingerly, weighing it a bit in his hand, and then hurled it at a tree angrily, yelling curses. How could he do this to her?! How could she go ahead and die on him?!

"WHY?!" he screamed, his voice cracking, and he fell on his knees, his head lowered as he cried miserably, his body shaking violently. He let his face fall in his blood stained hands.

"I'm s-sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry D-Dakota. I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I-I shouldn't have done this. Dakota…"

He couldn't get the words out. He tried but his voice failed him. Well, he knew Dakota would know what he wanted to say. She would understand his guilt because she had been that good.

Kai was also aware that, had he not been such a reckless and idiotic jerk, both of them could have gotten out just because of how strong they were as a team. And now…

Now he heard someone approach.

* * *

**Nell "Tink" Tinker, 12**

**District Five Female**

* * *

A lot of people had died the previous day.

Tink felt incredibly flighty now. She was, after all, in the final seven. Yet, for her to go home, five more people had to _die_…

It was not a comforting thought.

The night had passed peacefully for the two of them. They had had to be on their guard the whole time, and Tink was sure that she had heard strange sounds in the dead of night. She had even noticed a girl run past them, dressed rather differently from the tributes, and as she could not really figure out who it was, she stayed away thinking it might have been a mutt.

Basil had been nice, nicer than she had expected him to be. He kept his distance but arranged for all the foods and drinks, and had stayed up pretty much all night. She had been awake most of the time as well, but they had not interacted much, and in all honesty Tink was grateful for that. She had been wondering all night whether _she_ could _kill_, and how she would deal with it if she survived to see the day. Tink was not particularly optimistic about her chances; sure, the Careers were gone, but if the remaining tributes had taken out all the tributes from the Career districts, weren't they even more dangerous?

She wondered who killed Napoleon, however. That had been the only murder she had wanted to commit, at least when Cat had died. She did not really know whether she could bring herself to actually kill someone, someone even as horrid as Napoleon, but she entertained the idea regardless of those feelings. At least, Cat had been avenged.

Tink had briefly pondered on the reason behind Basil being this nice. He had replied rather curtly, saying something about how his siblings were stupid but he loved them and she kind of reminded him of them, but Tink did not know how to feel about it. Did he love her like his siblings or was she stupid? Still, people often had strange reasons to do good things and even stranger reasons for doing bad things, so who was Tink to question his reasoning?

They had been 'up' at dawn, acknowledging each other wordlessly. Tink was still curious about Basil, wanting to know him better, but at the same time she was wary of getting attached. She had already lost two of her friends, there was a good chance she would never see her family and friends again, and she didn't think she could bear getting attached to another human and having them or herself die.

What if she really died here? Her skin turned cold at that, as her breathing hitched and she started perspiring rather profusely. She had only just started knowing her mother better, started seeing her perspective. She loved her family. She could not thank her mother properly for helping her with her confused phase when she was discovering the developments in her body and for taking care of her. She never told her father that she really appreciated his jokes and his sporting attitude. She had not even gotten to properly say goodbye to her friends. And Isaiah… she never told him how she felt. She never told him that she was not his 'bro', that she was everyone's bro but his.

She was a tough girl, but she could not help but a light sob escape her, tears welling up in her eyes as she thought of home, of missed opportunities to let her loved ones know what they meant to her.

"I love you," she whispered, not directly addressing anyone, but she hoped they would get it anyway. That was the most she could muster at the moment. She furiously wiped away her tears, took in a deep breath, and calmed herself down, which was a task.

"You've been up all night, haven't you?"

She turned to Basileus, who was walking exactly three steps behind her. Tink sighed.

"Well, yes."

"I think we should stop."

"What do you mean?"

"Just walking endlessly won't help. Let's settle down somewhere and think."

"I don't think any amount of thinking is really going to help us," Tink muttered, "But let's do it anyway."

So, the two of them turned a corner, walked in through the gates of a park… only to see a very devastated Kai Jung crying his heart out. He looked up at them, his eyes wild and bloodshot, and Tink felt her heart skip a beat. She was so not ready for a confrontation…

"Uh…"

Kai stood up shakily, no words leaving him, looking as if he was drunk and wallowing in gloom. He probably was. She wondered whom he lost to get to such a state.

"We don't want a fight," she said firmly, hoping that both Kai and Basileus take the hint, "Basil, let's leave."

Kai did not protest her suggestion, and kept his distance. Basileus, however, was not ready to cooperate.

He leaped at Kai.

Tink watched with wild eyes as the two boys wrestled against each other. Basileus was much stronger and was landing more hits, but Kai was fighting back just as hard, his grief pumping energy into his veins, and Tink gasped when he hit Basil on the nose, blood spurting out.

"Basil!"

As Basil staggered back from the impact, Kai ran over to the bag and rummaged through it, pulling out a knife. Tink cried out as he ran towards her, and she narrowly ducked and avoided the stab. She turned around and kicked him between the legs, and even as Kai knelt down with an anguished yell, his grip did not loosen on his knife, and Tink punched him. Or tried to.

He caught her wrist and pulled her towards himself.

She started struggling against him, but his grip was like iron, and she did the only thing she could think of. She bit hard on his wrist, so hard that it drew blood, and she could taste the coppery liquid, making her gag, but it at least released her.

Before Kai could react to it, Basil was on top of him again, and Tink had the time to move away from the warring duo. She needed to do something to get Basil and herself out of this situation. She cursed him in her head for starting this, and cursed even more for not using the sword that he carried uselessly by his side.

Kai stabbed him, or attempted to, but only managed to leave a gash on his stomach.

"Aahh!" Basil cried out, howling in pain, even as Kai kicked him hard on the chest. Tink watched as the boy from Nine had the upper hand, and she frantically looked around for something to use in order to help out her ally, panicking slightly. What if they die here?! At _Kai's_ hands?!

Tink did not think any longer. Impulsively, she raged straight into the battle even as Kai slashed Basil with another cry, and was about to go for the kill, and Tink pushed him with all her strength. It wasn't much, but it distracted him, and he cursed in rage.

And then things happened _very _quickly.

Kai pushed his knife through her chest, the blade moving in slow motion even as it pierced her, and she cried out in anguish, the pain vibrating through her entire being, and she yelled as he tormented her even further by pulling back the knife from her heart.

"NO!"

She fell on her back, Basil's cry echoing in her ears, threatening to tear apart her soul, not that it mattered anyway, because she was never going to see anyone she loved again. She was already struggling to breathe, but she watched as Basil finally took out his sword and attacked, slicing Kai's throat in a single cut, the cannon exploding.

"Tink… TINK!"

The boy dropped his sword and ran over to her, cradling her small self and trying to ease her. Tink tried to speak, but the pain from her wound made it hard to do so, as did the cries stuck in her throat. She would not see anyone again…

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry Tink…"

"Not- not... your faul-"

And then, it all faded into darkness.

* * *

**Basileus Paladino, 18**

**District Eleven Male**

* * *

He was frozen still as the second cannon went off, disturbing the silence that had managed to convince him that things were fine. He held the little lifeless body in his arms, his tears dropping on her face, as he pictured Ria and Ames in her place. Basileus hugged the corpse tightly, Tink's face merging into his siblings' then back to her own. He had failed earlier to show them that they were on a wrong path and had failed them. And now, he had failed this little girl as well. This just showed that he was nothing but a failure.

He gently laid her down on a bench, and it looked as if she was having a peaceful nap, other than the blood on her chest, the blood that seeped through her clothes even now. And he, he was in pain himself, that scum had really slashed him badly, and Basil tried tore apart Kai;s jacket, tearing it off and making a bandage of sorts to stop the blood flow.

Basileus was tired, every fibre of his being screaming at him to rest, but he could not stay here, not where her corpse was. So, after wiping his sword on Kai's shirt, Basil left the park, cursing himself. He should have listened to Tink. In hindsight, he honestly had no reason to fight Kai other than that he was feeling furious and wanted to be done with the competition. He had honestly worked so hard to control himself, channel his rage into something productive for his survival, and then he did _that._ Basil had known that Kai would not have attacked had they just walked away. He knew Kai would not have even acknowledged them. And yet, just to- just to do _something_, he started a fight.

And then, what happened? He lost it. Yes sure, Kai was dead, he had _two_ less competitors now, but was it any use? He had hoped Tink could win too. She wondered whether she had a sibling, who worried about her the way he did for Ria and Ames? Maybe her parents were alive? He did not know, he knew very little about her. And yet, it hurt, because she died because of _him._

And he was injured. Basileus knew he did not have the strength to fight off a physically strong tribute right now, and definitely not a mutt. Thankfully, the only physically strong tribute right now was Lyana, but he needed her dead. The boy from Eleven staggered ahead, hands clutching the jacket over the wound. The blood had stopped oozing out, and he was not really bleeding any more, but it still hurt a lot. Basileus felt physically weak, as if all the energy had drained out of his body and his soul, to the point that he felt he was just a shallow shell of what he used to be. Perhaps, he was correct.

He leaned against a grey wall, and slowly slid down, sitting painfully. He groaned, one hand holding the cloth, the other fumbling to open the bag he was carrying. He was incredibly thirsty right now, his throat constricting and sore, and it was an honest struggle to produce the half empty bottle from his bag. He tried uncorking it with one hand, not willing to let go of his wound, and after finally achieving success, drank the clear liquid lustily, the droplets almost literally giving him the strength he needed. It was not much, not at all, but it cleared his mind, and so he dumped all the water on his head, sighing with content as the slightly cool drink washed over him.

He just stayed there for a while, his eyes shut, though, after a few seconds he was certain that someone was watching him. His eyes flew open, trying to detect the intruder, but there was absolutely nothing there, not even a bird, let alone a human. He shut his eyes again because they hurt, and tried to consume himself in the silence, hoping the pain would lessen a bit, but he could still not shake off the feeling as if he was being watched. The feeling was so intense that he could almost touch it, and that forced him to stand up again.

Basil did not feel like staying there any longer. Repositioning Kai's jacket a little more comfortably around his wound, he lifted the bag and set off, his pace slow, as slow as an old, dying man's, and he did not like the comparison his mind just presented to him. Still, he could not really bring himself to speed up, not with that pain in his body and his heart.

He pulled out his sword, in case things would get worse, which he felt they would. However, the moment he had the weapon out, something hit him, knocking the sword off his hands, and throwing him forward… towards a rope that he had somehow not noticed until now…

"No!"

The rope tightened around his neck, and he was being lifted as he struggled against this bindage. He was not too high, but the rope was tightening against his neck, choking him. Basileus pulled hard at it, screaming in panic as he started running out of breath. He tried to untie the knot, his legs flailing as he tried to keep himself alive, but nothing. His time was running out, and he could feel his eyes trying to pop out, his nerves fighting to burst, his hands fiddling and unable to do anything much. His arms were resisting, but he tried whatever he could to untie the knot.

But, as usual, he was failing.

"H-help!" he cried out, blood hammering his eardrums. He was dying, he was literally dying. All those years of training, being the last Career standing, it was for nothing. He was dying, being hanged to death.

He stopped struggling to free himself and was struggling to breathe now, trying to pull the rope away from his throat.

And suddenly, somebody used _his _sword to cut apart his rope, and he dropped down on the pavement in a heap.

Before Basil could register anything, he saw the person who had just arrived, or perhaps, who had done all of this in the first place. The boy from Three had a cold smile on his manically calm face, and Basil's eyes widened as he drove the sword into his temple.

"Rest in pieces, Basileus Paladino," Rook whispered, the smile still on his face, and all Basil knew was that he gently closed his eyelids for the final time.

* * *

**Yeah, well, a lot of stuff happened here. I tried hard to keep an even POV distribution, but I guess Akira will have one more POV than the others just because it was necessary to show this from her perspective. **

**Eulogies:**

**9th- Aron Rail (killed by Akira Tuktuk): Aron was amazing! He was young, but he was cold, calculating and manipulative, someone who had seen the world and knew the dark sides of it. Despite all of that, he was quite human, with flaws and emotions, and that was what I loved so much about him. It made me sad that most people did not like him the way I did, but know that I really loved him. Rest in peace Aron, you will be missed.**

**8th- Napoleon Walter (killed by Lyanna Winters and Cairn Rochester): So, I have this tradition of having one of my favourite (villainous) Career place 8th. While I loved all the tributes a lot in this story, Napoleon has a special place in my heart. He was literally the easiest character to write, and I kind of related to him on many levels, so he was a delight. He was a villain, but not entirely. He was bad but also decent. You'll be missed Napoleon, rest in peace.**

**7th- Kai Jung (killed by Basileus Paladino): Kai was the best meme ever, but even more so, he was an excellent character. Kai was so nuanced that the moment I had him, I knew he would defy the odds and go far. It was fun to be in his head, and Kai's worldview was, well, it wasn't something I stand for, but it changed. He always had potential to be a decent person and I loved writing him so much. Rest in peace Kai, love you!**

**6th- Nell Tinker (killed by Kai Jung): TINK! I loved her so, so much! She was twelve and acted like it, something that is rare in stories. She was such a well written character, and I had a great time writing her! Her impulsive nature was what had saved her in the Bloodbath, and what doomed her here, but I would not change a single thing about her, because my bro is perfect the way she is. I love you Tink, rest in peace.**

**5th- Basileus Paladino (killed by Rook Karis): Basil was love, absolute love. He was angry, annoyed, irritable, kind of a really mean guy… but at heart he was a soft and beautiful person. I enjoyed writing Basil, because he was definitely one of the most interesting characters in the group, so dynamic, so real. I loved every minute of writing him. I'm glad people finally saw you for who you are, and not for the angry young man you come across as. Rest in peace Basil, you'll be missed.**

**Yeah, so congratulations to the top four! A rather unique set of finalists, if I'm being honest. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's way past 3 AM for me, and I don't really know what I'm doing, but I would love to hear your thoughts. **

**Alliances:**

**Of Sword and Kerosene: Lyanna, Cairn**

**Lone Wolves: Rook, Akira**


	34. Chapter 34

**Night Six**

* * *

**Rook Karis, 16**

**District Three Male**

* * *

The stench of blood was bothering him, and despite it having dried out, the feeling of having it on himself did not feel great.

Rook had taken off his jacket and shirt, both of them covered with dried blood of Avni and Basileus, and as Rook thought about the latter, he let out a small chuckle. He had killed him after all, eh? Had he not threatened him during training, using his physical strength to try and boss him around? Had he not killed his poor friend mercilessly? Well, he had gotten his karma, gotten it through _him_, he was Basileus' karma.

And now, while the idea was still laughable to him, he could not truly say that he enjoyed claiming his life. Well, it had been satisfying when he actually did it, but then… then he felt hollow. He felt petty.

No, it was not as if Rook was totally shattered after committing this crime. He was in the Games, after all, but Rook acknowledged that he had murdered another human, a mere _child,_ and it did not make him feel better, not in the way he had thought it would. His heart felt empty and he briefly wondered whether Avni would have even appreciated being avenged with such a calculated trap. Regardless, Basileus was dead, and he was in the final four.

Rook had used the remainder of his time since Avni's death, to reflect on his life. He had no hope to find his mother. His heart had simply given up on that, and once he had accepted it… he felt lighter. So, his friend was dead. His father had been punished. His mother was gone, just gone. Who was he supposed to go back for? He had no home, unless he counted that community home thing he lived in, and he could not bring himself to count that.

So what was worth fighting for?

He looked down at his hands in the dim glow of the single street light that shone at the time. His hands, covered in blood. His hands that had murdered Basileus. He clenched them into fists as he took in a deep breath, days of wondering finally making him realise _who _he was fighting for.

It was not just a survival instinct. It was more than that, much more than that. Rook was not fighting for anyone other than himself, for no reason other than the sheer will to live his life, take the good and the bad, and cherish the moments that were written out in his fate. He was going to fight to the death to earn his life, and perhaps that was the thought that stopped him from feeling guilty, from feeling ashamed.

Rook had a task at hand though. It had been hours since he killed Basileus, the day turning to evening even as the winds became cooler, but the Gamemakers had made no effort to bring them all together. But then, these Games were 'different' so he did not really expect them to do any standard thing. Well then, perhaps he would go and start looking for the others. Well, they were an interesting bunch…

What surprised him the most was that the Twelve pair was intact even now. Rook wondered whether his former allies were still working together or had they gone their separate ways. His anger with them had subsided long back after he had calmed down, reasoning with himself that they could not have possibly done anything to help Avni. Now, however, at least one of them had to leave the world for him to live. It was not about anger, revenge or forgiveness any more. It was about survival.

And then there was Akira, a person about whom he knew nothing. She had appeared to be rather unimpressive during training, and yet, here she was, a contender. His life had taught him that looks were deceiving, and Akira had proven that. He knew that, being so close to getting home, it was her that he was worried about, and not the pair from Twelve, simply because he had studied them. And if they were together even now, Rook was aware about what was going to happen. There was really no effort required from his side for those two.

Rook stood up, realising that he had been sitting at the same spot for a very long time. He debated with himself on whether he should try looking for one of the others or not, and what kind of strategy to use as he pulled his turtle neck T shirt back on.

However, before he could come up with an answer, he saw her approaching, her walk rather purposeful. At first, he wasn't sure who it was, and hastily reached out for his knife, but then he glimpsed her passive face in the dim light, eyes behind silhouettes. She was dressed differently, rather fashionably if he were being honest, and for a moment he wondered whether she was a mutt. Rook stepped back a few steps so that he could see properly, holding his knife in front of him.

She came to a halt, a look of surprise on her beautiful face, and she raised her hands in surrender.

"Akira."

"Yeah man," she said, stepping forward a bit, "I'm not dangerous. I just want to get out."

"Give me one reason to spare your life."

"District Twelve were your allies," she said, catching Rook off guard, "They deserted you to fend for yourself. I don't see why you'd give them a chance to survive at the cost of our lives."

He blinked. How did she know that the alliance had broken apart, that he had, at least at the time, blamed them for leaving his side?

"How do you…?"

"It's evident, Rook. They were your allies during training. They're not here with you. They've ditched you."

The boy stared at her for a couple of seconds, before exploding into a mirthless chuckle. He could already sense how her words were affecting him, prompting him to hate on his ex allies again, and he was of the thought that this was indeed commendable. No wonder she had managed to survive this long; she'd be a worthy opponent at chess.

"What about your ally?" he asked casually, smiling lightly at her, but it quickly turned into a downward curve as Akira's face darkened.

"He died. Mutts got him."

"Mutts?"

"Mannequins at _Behold! The Beautique_. They killed him."

Her voice was rather constricted at that, as if the mere act of talking about it gave her immense pain. Rook, surprisingly, did believe that she was very upset about the whole thing, and that she was telling the truth… at least partially. Maybe she ditched her ally and he died because of her. Maybe he betrayed her and got killed. Rook did not know, and he could not decide whether to trust her or not.

_You can never decide anything, can you?_

He kept the knife steady, albeit slightly lower, and allowed her to approach him. She sighed.

"We should team up against them."

"What if one of them kills the other? How can I be sure you won't attack me?"

"I'm unarmed, Rook. You have a knife. I should be the one worrying. I promise you though, I won't attack you if you don't attack me first."

Rook could smell a bluff out and he knew at once that Akira was not lying. She really was suggesting an actual alliance. He studied her face for a few more seconds, just to make sure that he was right, and apparently he was, as usual. So, he nodded slowly, lowering the knife, not too hastily though, just to make sure she knew he could stab her at any moment. She too looked as if she got the message, because her hands were still raised in surrender.

"You can put your hands down now."

"Oh yeah, sorry."

She lowered her hands with a groan, visibly glad to move them, the stiffness of her arms reflected on her face.

"Okay, so, what now?"

"I know Lyanna has a sword and some stars," Rook replied, "And Cairn has a knife."

"So they're both armed."

"Yeah."

"How are we supposed to take them out?"

"Follow me," Rook said.

And she did, without any hesitation.

Rook led her down the alleyway, across the streets, and Akira muttered about the location being too familiar.

"We're headed in the direction of the cornucopia."

"Why?! To get weapons?"

"Not really. Went there earlier to check. Somehow all the supplies have disappeared."

"That can't be true!" Akira exclaimed.

"It is though."

He walked her to the backside of the park that had been the cornucopia, the grey wall sending a chill down his spine as it always did. It was probably the only bare structure in the whole arena and that was made it stand out. And yet… if someone were to pass it they would not know it was the cornucopia. That was his advantage. And he voiced it out to his new ally, who raised her brows.

"I don't get you."

"Come with me."

He led her into the building that was right behind the park. Ever since Avni died, Rook had been keeping himself busy by studying the arena as diligently as he could. It was a city, after all. And cities always had a pattern.

The building was a residential one, with blue three dimensional wallpapers depicting sea waves. It was so realistic that at first Rook had thought they were real but now he was used to it. Not Akira though, she was perplexed, and squeeled in anticipation.

"It's just a wallpaper, Akira."

"Oh!"

He led her to the lift, an ornate box with mirrors, and he found Akira checking herself out in them, before her shoulders slumped and she turned away, and that fascinated him. However, he chose not to ask her anything about her sudden excitement and an equally aprupt lack of it, for he was not looking forward to any extra dramatic moment.

They were on the rooftop now, and they glanced down at the cornucopia, Akira giving a low whistle. Rook was impressed that she understood his point without him having to explain, because it had taken him a while to figure things out.

"I can't see them from up here," she said.

"Yeah, it's because it's dark and we're too high."

"This arena is genius."

"It is," he smiled.

After all, no matter how much one would run, the arena had been designed in a way that it _would _bring a person ultimately to the back wall of the cornucopia. All the roads, the buildings, the structures led up to this point.

The Twelve pair would be there at some point, and he would be prepared for them.

* * *

**Cairn Rochester, 16**

**District Twelve Male**

* * *

Cairn had never thought he could make it to the final four.

In all honesty, he had expected himself to go in the bloodbath itself. After all what did he have to make him more deserving? He had not been a monster. He had been weak even, if he were being true to himself. Not anymore though. Cairn was not weak anymore. He was not the shy guy from Twelve who would stutter while talking to others and who would look and admire his Lyanna from a distance for her confidence. The arena had taken care of that. He and Lyanna were friends now, more than just an employee and an employer. He had started to understand her better now, and she… she had been unable to accept the changes in him. She was trying, he could see it, but he could also see that he scared her, even if just a bit. Did he blame her? Not really. He had changed for the worse. He acknowledged it and truth be told then he was frightened of himself too.

But this form of him was… liberating. For the first time in his life, Cairn felt in charge of his life. And he loved that feeling, being in power gave him a thrill he had never experienced, and it was almost… addicting.

He was so ready to go home.

Presently, however, Lyanna was nervous. After taking down Napoleon, the two of them had gone back to look for her and Napoleon's sword… and there was nothing. They had simply vanished into thin air, as if they'd never existed in the first place. So Cairn was left with just his knife and Lyanna with just three stars. Things were not looking great but they could be worse.

"Where do you think they would be?" he asked, his hands fiddling with each other, his foot tapping on the ground gently.

"I have no idea at all Cairn. I'm just sure that they must be separate."

"But how can we say that?"

"A cannon would have told us if they had met."

Cairn frowned. While Rook and Akira fighting to the death was the most obvious thing that could happen if they met, he was sure that this wasn't… Rook's style. He was kind of certain he would make an ally out of Akira, or at least try to. Akira's thought process was an unknown variable. He did not know what it was like at all. He didn't know what to expect.

"Let's find them."

He started walking ahead, aware that Lyanna was following him… _silently._

Cairn frowned, and immediately his hand went into his jacket, pulling out his knife and he leaped ahead, narrowly missing a metallic star. He swerved around to see her, and there she stood, the star back in her hand, her posture defensive and stoic, her face blank, as if she did not even know him.

He did not want to believe this, but he wasn't particularly surprised.

"So, this is what it has come to, Lyanna?"

"I'm sorry Cairn," she said, her voice devoid of emotion, too empty to actually pass it off to be actually emotionless, but she was trying hard, "You're a good friend. You helped me in my time of need, and I'll remain forever grateful to you for that. However, I need to go home. I'm sure you understand."

So… this was really happening. Someone had said it right; a person could not truly have a friend. If they seemed like it, they were lying and wanted something from others. Needless to say, Cairn was hurt. He really had helped her when nobody else did, he had ensured that nobody in her family went to bed on an empty stomach. And this was how she was paying back.

"And why can't we just team up to finish the other two?"

"If there will be only one more person to kill in order to go home, I'm sure they'll resolve it between themselves. Makes things much more certain for me."

Cairn stared at her for a couple of seconds, dumbfounded. How could he have ever considered this snake his friend? He gritted his teeth. Well, he was not going to hold back either.

They charged.

Lyanna landed the first punch, right onto his nose, sending him back staggering and tripping on his own feet.

"Aah!" he cried out, falling on his backside, and just avoiding stabbing himself with his knife.

He did not have much time to comprehend his embarrassing moment for with an enraged roar, Lyanna jumped at him, bringing down her star. He rolled out of the way just in time, before moving around and trying to stab her. To his shock, she just grabbed his wrist tightly, and he wasn't able to free it.

"What the hell!"

Lyanna kicked him in the gut, and he felt as if his intestines would explode as he went back reeling into the ground. Yet, he held onto the knife.

She launched herself on him again, but this time he thrust his knife upwards and she hurriedly stepped back to avoid getting stabbed. Seizing the opportunity, he kicked her behind the knees. With a cry, she bent double, and he thrust his knife towards her. She jumped out of the way, but not before the knife left a big gash on her arm- right on the same spot that Napoleon had earlier.

"AH!" she cried out in pain, distracted by the wound, and Cairn took the opportunity to headbutt her into the road. She struggled against him as he tried to pin her down, and before he could bring down the knife, she spat at him.

Disgusting.

Cairn was distracted at that, and his grip loosened just a bit… but that was enough. He felt something tear into his hand, making him yell in pain, backing away from Lyanna. Did she just _bite_ him?!

He was still disoriented when he felt her palm hit him on the face, pushing him away. He kicked her in the chest, and her eyes seemed to almost pop out as she went back flying, crashed against the other wall, and laid in a heap, groaning, her star out of her grasp.

Cairn bellowed, running towards her, his knife held tightly when Lyanna pulled out the can of pepper spray, the can _he _had given her, and blasted it in his face.

"MY EYES!"

Cairn could not see a thing, his eyes on fire, burning his soul as he cried out, stepping back, away from her. He rubbed his eyes and made the feeling even worse, and then he realised the knife had been snatched from him… and pushed into his chest.

The pain was unbearable, and tears failed him when she twisted and then pulled the knife back out. He still couldn't open his eyes, but he knew she was still there, waiting, waiting for him to die.

"You…" he gasped, "You… you will… not go home… you will not… will not win…"

And then, his body slumped sideways, the cold and darkness engulfing him forever.

* * *

**Lyanna Winters, 18**

**District Twelve Female**

* * *

Lyanna trudged ahead softly, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage, threatening to jump out. She had really done it. She had really killed her friend.

She stifled a sob back, tears pooling in her eyes, as she remembered the whole fight. She had not hesitated even once, despite Cairn being her friend. She vividly pictured the last thing she did to him, taking his knife and driving it into his chest, then _twisting_ it before pulling it back. Her own actions made her want to vomit in disgust, for how could _she _be _that_ person?! Why did her hands not tremble once as she attacked her friend? Why did she not cry when she killed him?

And why were his words haunting her?

_You… you will… not go home… you will not… will not win…_

People often said that a dying person's curse often came out to be true. Lyanna did not really believe in curses or blessings, and yet there was this tightening feeling around her chest. What if his words actually came true?

_They won't! Snap out of it!_

But no matter how much she told herself that it would not happen, his words kept on haunting her. There had been so much anger in his voice, so much venom… she knew his voice was going to stay in her mind forever, reminding her everyday of what she had done, and she knew she would know no peace.

That was, however, for much later. Right now, priority was surviving.

She had not realised where she had reached until she got there, but she was surprised to know. Her boots clicked on the gravel as she walked forward, and she entered the now deserted park. Lyanna looked around, the night pressing onto her, and she felt a sense of urgency accompanied by deadly calmness. She had taken note that the weapons were gone, but other things were still there.

She helped herself to some water, and only then noticed that her mouth was so parched that it hurt to even swallow the liquid. Lyanna sighed, tossing the half empty bottle away, and sat down on the swing. In the dim street light, she could still see the dark patches on the grass, blood stained of people who had died in the bloodbath. It had been less than a week ago but to her it felt like an eternity.

She started swinging gently, mildly surprised that this could actually take her weight; it had looked so fragile. She held onto one of the chains, the other hand holding Cairn's knife, although she made a point to not look at it. After all, it was bathed in Cairn's blood, which was, she was certain, still slightly wet.

She was kind of waiting for another cannon to go off. Lyanna was not interested in seeking the others out; she just wanted them to fight each other and be done with it, she had done enough killing for a lifetime. And if one of them did come her way… she'd take care of it. She wondered who would win alongside her in case the other two fought each other. She knew her former ally was smart, but nothing too special physically. And Lyanna had no idea about Akira. She had been, in fact, shocked to know that she had made it to this stage. Akira had always looked rather unimpressive to her, and she was sure now that most likely she made it till here only due to sheer luck. Now she just had to see whether Akira's luck would hold or not.

And then… Lyanna laughed. She laughed at fate, for the scene that materialised in front of her was something she had not even considered, despite Cairn telling her to. Her eyes fell on them, Rook and Akira, moving together as a pair, passing by the gate.

The duo froze, their eyes wide, jaws hanging open. They shared a nervous glance, as if trying to decide what to do, and Lyanna's laughter faded into a sly smirk. Well, it seemed that her fate was hell bent on making her kill again and again. The two of them had supposedly allied, a rather unexpected turn of events, and now she would have to take matters in her own hand.

So, she tightened her grip on the knife, jumped to her feet, and charged.

The other two cried out and ran, running as fast as their legs could carry them. Lyanna considered throwing the knife at them, but then decided against it. In case she missed, she'd lose her weapon and she could not afford that at this stage, not when she was _this_ close of getting home, of being with her family. That thought propelled her to run faster and kill them, any of them. She did not care who.

She chased her around the park to the back wall, and leaped at Akira, who yelled out. The younger girl started flailing hard, throwing her arms and legs everywhere, and generally being rather difficult. Lyanna was about to stab her when Rook pushed her off his ally.

"Damnit Rook!" she exclaimed, standing up, mocking the younger boy as he helped Akira to her feet, "Changed sides already, eh?"

"At least I'm not like you," he spat, "Killing your own ally just to-"

What happened next did not allow him to complete the sentence, for he had no reason to do it. Lyanna watched in astonishment as Akira pushed Rook towards her, and with a yell, he fell at her feet.

"Wha-"

"I'm sorry Rooky," she muttered, her voice concealing insincerity, "But I want to win. I can't do it against her, she's too strong."

"SO YOU'LL BEYTAY ME!?"

"I'm sorry," she said then looked at Lyanna, "Please let me go. Please don't kill me. I'm unarmed and won't interfere."

Akira genuinely looked terrified of dying, almost on the verge of tears. She looked so wretched that Lyanna could not help but shoo her away, and Akira ran, ran away.

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME AKIRA!"

"She just did," Lyanna muttered, and before Rook could react, she sent her foot crashing into his chest. The younger boy started coughing at that, moving away from her, his eyes wide and manic with fear.

"Lyanna, Lyanna please," he pleaded, crawling away, "We can track her down. We can-"

"No Rook, no more playing around."

She sprinted over to him, kicked him in the gut followed by an elbow into his back. She had put all her strength into it, and he crumbled before her. As she bent down to stab him, he wrestled her, or tried to, and managed to push her away, but that was soon followed by another kick in the face.

And then, she was towering over the boy, knife held steadily.

* * *

**Akira Tuktuk, 16**

**District Six Female**

* * *

Akira ran back into the cornucopia, and on reaching there, the first thing she did was to drink water, because she was going to need it.

She had literally handed death over to her ally- again. She remembered pushing him, having caught him unaware. He had looked so scared, so dishevelled, so hurt…

Just as he should have.

Akira slowly moved to that tree, a rope tied around its branch. She did not know why it was there, it had not been there during bloodbath. Maybe a tribute had tied it to escape the bloodbath? She did not know. She pulled the rope gingerly and then, without a second thought, started climbing it.

It was kind of scary, because Akira was someone who got frightened easily, but she pulled herself up onto the branch, and then onto the wall, on which perched herself like a bird, watching the action below like a hawk.

She wondered who was going to win between the two. Right now, it looked like it would be Lyanna, but she could not tell until it was done. Akira did feel a little guilty by being here, watching from her safe spot, while her ally fought alone… and he was not good at it.

Of course, he was not supposed to be good at it.

Akira still held onto the rope, having pulled it towards herself. The branch was some distance away from the wall, so the rope would not cover the entire height of the wall on the other side, but that was okay. This was for a quick and safe getaway anyway.

And then she saw it. She saw her ally being battered down, the strong girl from Twelve kicked him in the gut, and then thrust her elbow into his back, making him cry out in pain as he just curled into himself. Her heart was beating fast now. What was going to happen?

He struggled against Lyanna's strength, bit he could not really defend himself, and in a matter of seconds he was at her mercy. How could he defend himself when Akira had his knife?

The girl from Six grabbed the rope and jumped off the wall with as much force as she could, her leg crashing into Lyanna's back, sending her toppling over in surprise.

"Rook!" Akira cried out, tossing his knife back at him, which he caught gracefully.

Even as Lyanna recovered from her surprise and charged at her with her knife, Akira threw an empty water bottle at her, something she had thought of picking up at the last moment. It did not stop Lyanna, but it distracted her, and that was the moment Rook needed to tackle her into the ground, sending his knife into her back.

"Noo!" she cried out, her voice anguished, but Akira was sure this was not enough. Lyanna's voice had been so painful, however, that Rook had frozen.

_Please don't let your inner humanity wake up now!_

But alas, Akira knew that was exactly what Rook was doing. So she pulled out his knife herself and tossed it to Rook, her screams filling the night sky. Lyanna had not given up though, she threw her knife at Akira, who had completely anticipated this move, and yet did not know how to dodge it. She finally decided to duck, and it was honestly a stroke of luck that the knife went over her head and fell down right behind her.

However, this seemed to have knocked sense into Rook, who realised what he had to do.

"Sorry Lyanna," he said as he punched her on the face.

Akira herself wanted to cry but she pinned the girl from Twelve down using all her weight, entangling her legs with her's so that she could not move.

"Rook do it!" Akira exclaimed, straining against the struggling girl, knowing she couldn't hold on for long.

"No Rook! Please!"

"I'm sorry, Lyanna."

And as the tears rolled down his cheeks, the boy from Three drove the knife into Lyanna's throat, the cannon exploding immediately.

The girl from Six got off the corpse in a daze. What was happening…?

A robotic voice, very creepily like that of Arabella the mannequin, spoke.

"Well our good friends, this brings us to the end of this year's hunger games! Congratulations to Rook Karis and Akira Tuktuk on their victory!"

Victory… Akira clapped her hands to her mouth, unable to speak, her voice failing her. Victory… she had won… she would live…

She saw her ally on his knees, face buried in his hands, weeping hard, his whole body trembling as he cried. Akira blinked as years started rolling down her cheeks too. She had survived… their plan to take down Lyanna had worked… she had survived…

Akira ran over to Rook, falling on her knees beside her, and threw her arms around her. He had helped her, trusted her, saved her. Akira cried as Rook enveloped her in an embrace too, and they were both weeping in each other's weeping at what they had lost, crying at the joy of being alive, and yet…

Her heart felt numb.

* * *

**Eulogies:**

**4th- Cairn Rochester (killed by Lyanna Winters): Ah Cairn. He was such an interesting guy, a nice shy guy who was respectful to everyone, had turned into a ferocious competitor. Cairn was an amazing character, a character I really loved to write and develop, and I can say he's one of my favourites in this story. I loved Cairn, and I'm so happy I got to write him. Rest in peace buddy, you'll be missed.**

**3rd- Lyanna Winters (killed by Rook Karis and Akira Tuktuk): Lyanna! Lyanna was one of the most dynamic characters in the whole cast. She was a strong woman, an interesting character, and really made the story what it is. She was a well rounded character, and it was an honour to write this miner. Rest in peace Lyanna, love you!**

**Victor- Rook Karis: I loved Rook. I loved him so, so much. When I first got him, I was kind of startled by the similarities he had with another character in another story, but then I realised that Rook was not that guy, Rook was different and unique, and my love for him increased so much more. I loved writing him, I loved thinking as him, I loved strategising like him. I feel I could truly get into his skin, and he has been a blast to write. Congratulations Rook!**

**Victor- Akira Tuktuk: Akira was lovely as a character, and the most unconventional girl I could have received. I had so much fun writing her, and even more fun concealing her motives not only from Aron, but also from all the readers. Akira was the biggest mastermind in these Games, and she showed that even now, against Lyanna. Writing her was a thrill, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Congratulations Akira!**

**So, there's the finale. I hope this isn't too bad and I hope you enjoyed this. I really liked all these characters and had an extremely hard time deciding the winners. I hope you all are happy with the victors. **

**Have a great day!**


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